


Remember, remember: an MI6 story

by ImGroovyAndIKnowIt



Series: MI6 shenanigans [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Cherik as dads, Childhood Trauma, Erik has Issues, Life and Such at MI6, M/M, Maximoff Twin Feels, Minor Hank McCoy/Raven | Mystique, Slow Burn, Spy Erik Lehnsherr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 47,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26629801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGroovyAndIKnowIt/pseuds/ImGroovyAndIKnowIt
Summary: In short:Erik’s a secret agent, Charles’s the new psychologist at MI6, they get into loads shenanigans, become daddies to Wanda and Pietro, fall in love and save the world from evil Shaw in the process.Summary:Agent 009 has a secret, his parents were murdered for something he can’t remember. Determined to bury those memories and everything associated with them, his world is turned upside down when he meets new psychologist Dr. Charles Xavier, a ray of sunshine in the otherwise dull grey underground London base.After accidentally uncovering buried evidence, Erik needs Charles’s help to dive back into the case of Sebastian Shaw. Knowing what it did to him the last time, he’s less than confident about it. What would happen if he remembered those secrets? What would happen if he didn’t?
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: MI6 shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083269
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50
Collections: 2020 Cherik Bang





	1. Prologue & Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twgayvinreed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twgayvinreed/gifts), [Junechildart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junechildart/gifts).



> Well, hello there, and welcome!
> 
> This fic was written as part of the 2020 Cherik Big Bang. A HUGE thank you to the amazing Junechildart for jumping in and producing such a lovely piece of art when the original artist was unable to continue. <3 You'll find the art below.
> 
> Rated Explicit to be on the safe side. TW for flashbacks of past abuse (Erik/Shaw) and (self-)harm, and resulting trauma. Not to worry, all is well that ends well!
> 
> There are a bunch of scenes I wanted to write but didn't have time, so I may add them later as one-shots or as whatever I find that suits the story :)
> 
> The twins are heavily represented because daddy Cherik gives me LIFE!

Note: Here is the wonderful art of Cherik and the twins!

# 

# Prologue

It was a residential neighbourhood outside Boston where things changed. A shadow, blending into the night, 009 took the gun out of the back of his trousers and opened the front door of a mansion-like house. It was unlocked. 

Slipping into the quiet house, - no, it wasn't quiet, he could hear noise coming from upstairs. There were whimpers. He climbed up the stairs. 

Gunshots.

Following the sound, he reached the master bedroom, and the scene there was one of chaos. Two bodies lay on the ground, their blood gradually tainting the beige carpet, the wall safe was open, and the curtains ripped. Two little kids were lying on the floor under the bed, very much alive and shaking, teeth clattering in fear. 009 was just in time to see the killer with a literal smoking gun kneeling down and looking under the bed. The children screamed, and 009 winced. Why did children have to have such shrilling cries?

He shot the other man in the shoulder and made his way over, kicking aside the gun that had just killed the two adults growing cold on the carpet. Another bullet followed in the man's stomach to make sure he wouldn't move too much while 009 pushed the children away. 

"Let's play hide and seek, alright?" he asked the children, although he didn't take his eyes away from the man at the end of his barrel. "Hide yourselves somewhere no one will find you. Not under a bed. Go," he ordered, not waiting for the running footsteps to die down to throw the first kick at the now unarmed murderer. 

Once he started, 009 didn't stop. He stopped counting the punches, none of them useful as he wasn't encountering any more resistance. Teeth flew out, bones broke, and ribs cracked until the corpse under him barely looked human anymore. 

He groaned, throwing one last punch into what was left of the other man's face, which wasn't much. The man had been dead 14 blows ago, but 009's rage was a raging fire, dangerously uncontrollable and he had kept going until the pain in his own hand was too intense to continue.

Straightening up, he looked at himself in the wardrobe mirror. 009, licence to kill, had gone a bit far this time. 

* * *

#  **Chapter 1**

* * *

"How did that even happen?" 

"Dangers of the mission," Erik replied evasively, looking at the X-ray the doctor had just stuck on the lightbox. He had outdone himself this time, with three metacarpal fractures and a broken phalanx. It wasn't the first time he broke his hand, but never so spectacularly before. He knew he would get an earful from the over-concerned doctor. "Don't be difficult, Grey."

"The fact that you think this is me being difficult is the problem. You will be immobilised for six weeks while this heals, Erik," Jean said with a sigh as she studied the X-Ray. "Complete with a cast. You do not get to take it off yourself this time."

"Fine," Erik said, having no real choice anyway. An injury on the field was a weak spot he couldn't afford to have on a next mission. "How are the children?" He'd insisted for Jean to see the two children Erik had brought back first in case they were hurt. He wasn't sure why he'd taken them back here, he should have left them in their home country, taken care of by social services. No, he knew why he'd done that. If he was right, those children were in danger.

"Physically, they are okay. They're not hurt, but they've shut down. Haven't uttered a single word since they arrived."

Erik sighed. He usually disliked children, their constant babbling, their unending energy, but having their parents murdered in front of them had to be the most terrible thing. There was something about those kids.

When she finished fixing the cast on Erik's hand, Jean turned back to her desk where she filled out an orange form and applied her signature. "Don't take more painkillers than the recommended dose," Jean said, all the while knowing this was the least possible problem to happen with this particular patient. "We'll do another X-Ray in two weeks. I've written in your eval that you can't go back before six weeks as I don't trust you to relay the information accurately."

"I'm flattered," Erik snorted but took the form and jumped off the table.

Walking through the corridors of the MI6 base that they called 'The Hut' gave Erik a strange feeling of being home. He had been on one of his most lengthy missions yet, three weeks around the world, trying to find who was really behind the election tampering and war attempts. But halfway through it, he'd realised he knew who was behind that and set out after a piece of paper that would change his life and the rest of the world. He'd arrived too late at Senator Maximoff's house, and the paper wasn't there. He wasn’t sure it had ever been.

He looked down at the bright orange sheet of paper in his hand entitled 'Post-Mission evaluation' and read what Jean had written. It was no more than what she'd said, another X-Ray in two weeks and no physical activity or pressure on the hand. Six weeks before he could go back on the field. This was going to be _long_. 

Now for the easier part. Psychological evaluation was the second thing every agent had to go through after a mission, to make sure there were no issues in their processing of events. In Erik's opinion, this was overrated and a big waste of time, and he was fortunate enough to have a shrink that agreed. He only had to hand Dr Smith his form, answer that his mission had gone well and he was fine, and then he was deemed ready to go on. Once this was done, he could get some rest.

When he arrived in front of Dr Smith's office, however, a new sign replaced the old one:

 _Psychological evaluation_ _  
__Dr Charles Xavier_

Xavier, the name sounded familiar to Erik. It rang the same bell as Potter or Windsor, the nationally known surnames, but he couldn't remember where he'd heard it. Intrigued and surprised he hadn't been made aware of any change in doctors, Erik slipped his form under the door, not interested enough to subject himself to a new acquaintance when he was this exhausted. He headed straight to bed after a 30-hour day.

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

It was with a clear head that Erik met his boss for debriefing the next day. Even though he'd had the usual nightmare and had banged his damned cast on the shower wall, he was uncharacteristically optimistic about the new day. There was work to be done. He was only going to talk business with his superior who rarely got personal, something which Erik deeply appreciated. Arriving at the door just opposite the stairs that went up to the kitchen and other common areas, he placed his eye in front of the scanner. After a second, he stepped back, and a voice greeted him with "welcome, 009," before the door opened and he walked in.

Guy stood up from behind his desk and went to shake Erik's hand. "Erik, good to see you again." 

"It's good to be back," Erik said, walking to the briefing room to the right of Guy's office. This was where he was given most of his assignments and gave reports at the end. It was a small room with a big screen on the wall and a table with four chairs around. It was entirely soundproof, not connected to the internet or the outside world in any way, and had all sorts of systems to interfere with any device trying to record or send data through radio waves. Erik had been intimidated the first time he'd stepped into what they informally called 'the Dungeon' -- he'd thought if someone were to kill him at this instant, no one would ever know. He'd later realised this was true for anywhere he would fall, no one would ever know. Such was the life he’d chosen when he'd enrolled at MI6.

Erik sat down on one of the chairs, and Guy closed the door, which locked with several clicks.

"I heard about your little accident. Nothing bad, I hope?" Guy asked. 

Guillaume "Guy" Lewis was a half-French half-English man in his late fifties. His short hair had been white for ten years already, and he insisted on wearing a suit every day but lost the jacket within 5 minutes in the morning, and rolled up the sleeves of his button-down within 30. Erik had known him ever since Guy had rescued him from the grasp of his parents' murderer but had never known him to have any attachments. If Erik were sentimental, he'd say this was sort of a substitute father for him, but he wasn't.

Erik shrugged. "Bashed a guy's head in. It was deserved."

"I don't need justification," Guy said, sitting down at the table opposite Erik, "So long as you're whole for the next assignment."

"I will be. I took six weeks though," Erik said grumpily. "Who's the new shrink?"

"Xavier? He came highly recommended, that's why we sought him out. I hope you won't give him too much trouble."

"What happened to Smith?"

"He was asked to go. Someone had an issue on the field that could have been prevented by proper evaluation," Guy said. "You and I know this was long overdue."

"Anyway," Erik sighed, putting his memory chip in the reader on the table and grabbing the tablet. The screen on the wall lit up, and information from his mission started to show. Pictures he'd taken, the information he'd gathered, it was all there. He slid his finger across the tablet screen to push aside some files and focus on the beginning. "I was meant to find who was trying to tamper with the U.S. elections and stop them before they could start actions that would lead to irreversible war with the U.K. and the world. To that end, I'm not sure I succeeded."

"What do you mean?" Guy asked, his eyes on the screen, looking at pictures of Maddox Kane meeting high dignitaries. 

"Maddox Kane is dead," Erik stated as he showed the photographic evidence he'd taken before disappearing with the children. The image was proof he'd gone much too hard on the man than he should have, but Guy didn't comment, and Erik didn't feel any regret. "But I know this doesn't end with him."

"Do you have evidence of a larger machination?"

"All of this, he couldn't have got all of this on his own." Files of all types that Erik had recovered, bank statements, forged contracts, fake passports, news clippings, flooded the screen as he spoke. "This wasn't the mastermind I expected. When I ended him, he looked like he expected to die, not like I had interrupted his plans."

Guy frowned, taking the tablet to zoom in on a news article from the morning about the sudden assassination of Senator Maximoff and disappearance of his children. "I'll keep an eye on this."

"There's something else..." Erik started. He always hesitated to talk about this subject as it was so close to his heart, but he trusted Guy with his life. "I think I lost a piece of the list."

Guy raised an eyebrow. "You mean _the_ list?"

"I had a lead on it. I added the objective to my mission if you've seen that."

"Ah, yes, I remember. What happened to it?" Guy asked.

"We have to assume _he_ has it," Erik said with a sigh. It made no sense that it could've escaped him. Erik had at least a 24 hour lead on that piece of information, yet he’d failed. "My guess is Kane worked for him."

"How did he beat you to it?" 

"I don't know."

"We need to interrogate the children, maybe they know something," Guy said, but Erik immediately reacted. 

"No," he said, louder than necessary. "No, they're orphans and scared."

"They could have information," Guy insisted.

Erik shook his head again. "That's what _he_ thought about me, too."

"Erik, you know we don't have the same methods," Guy replied. "They can't stay here for long anyway. This isn't their place."

"It wasn't mine either, yet you took me in." 

Guy stood up and walked back to the door. "It was different. They'll go to child services. In the meantime, they're your responsibility while they're here."

Erik nodded. 

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

Going back to his room from Guy's office, Erik walked past the psychologist’s door and stopped. Now that he was there, he might as well retrieve his form and move on. He knocked on the door and waited. 

"Come in," a voice replied.

Erik opened the door and couldn't hide his shock at the change of atmosphere in the room. Dr Smith used to be surrounded by battered, old furniture that he didn't care to change, a frayed carpet, and a thick smell of dust. Thankfully, Erik had never needed to stay longer than 10 minutes. The room had been transformed into a bright, warm and comfortable-looking office, which retained a sort of living room feel. Two brown leather armchairs were facing one another in the middle of the room on top of a patterned carpet, a massive oak desk on the right wall and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the left and back wall.

"You must be Erik. I was just reading up on your mission," said the man who got up from one of the armchairs, putting the folder in his hand down. Erik saw that his form was part of it. He was a bit shorter than Erik with bright blue eyes and perfectly combed brown hair. The smile he gave Erik as he extended his hand was warm and genuine and damn wasn't he the most gorgeous thing Erik had ever seen. Erik wanted to slap himself for that thought alone, with the cast so it'd hurt a lot and put his mind back where it belonged.

Erik made sure to give him a more vigorous handshake than usual. "It's 009."

"That seems very formal. You can call me Charles," Charles said. "Please have a seat. What happened to your hand?"

Charles took his spot on the same armchair, but Erik didn't sit down. "I hurt it on the mission. I can come back to pick up the form later if you didn't have time to sign it."

"You can, but it will not be signed."

Erik already had his hand on the doorknob to leave, and he turned back to face Charles. "What?"

"I won't until you and I have a chat about your mission," Charles said, meeting Erik's gaze and holding it. 

Erik shook his head. "You're new here, let me explain to you how this works. I bring you the eval form, you ask if I'm ok, I say yes, and you sign it. That's it."

"Not with me, I'm afraid. And slipping it under my door is not going to change anything," Charles said. "If you're unable to spare some time now, we can set up an appointment for another day. I see here you have six weeks."

Erik took a breath and sighed it out, studying his options. He could tell the man to fuck off and go away, but he wouldn't get the signature he needed. He could take the offer to come back later but let's be honest, he wouldn't come back at all, and the result would be the same, no signature; or he could stay, tell Charles what he wanted to hear and be done with it. 

Reluctantly, Erik sat down opposite Charles on the surprisingly comfy chair and was rewarded with a smile. "Excellent," Charles said. "Tell me a little bit about your mission."

Erik gestured to the folder in Charles's hands with his chin. "You said you'd read up on it."

"I have, but I want to hear it from you."

"A man, Maddox Kane was rumoured to be tampering with the U.S. elections with an end goal to declare war on the UK. I tracked him down, but I couldn't figure out what he'd do next. I discovered he was blackmailing Senator Maximoff. When I went to his house, the Senator and his wife had been killed in front of their children. I killed Kane. The end," Erik explained, not mentioning how this was not one man's job. Always being one step ahead of him took more than Kane had in him. He also kept the part about the list to himself -- this wasn't a piece of information he would ever tell a blackmailing doctor. 

"Those poor children," Charles said with a nod, scribbling notes. "Why did you kill Kane?"

"Why not?"

Charles looked at him. "’Why not’ is not a good enough reason, I'm afraid. You have incredible power in your hands, and only a handful of people to hold you accountable. This is a high-responsibility position, and I need to know you are in your right mind to make critical decisions."

"That man didn't deserve to live," Erik said.

"Because he killed the kids' parents in front of them?" Charles asked.

Erik clenched his jaw, delaying his answer. "You've read my file, well done."

"It's perfectly normal to want justice for others when you couldn't have it for yourself," Charles said kindly.

"Then why are you giving me shit for killing him?" Erik asked. He definitely couldn't understand why shrinks were so complicated. 

"It is still a man's life we are talking about."

Erik shrugged. "Xavier, why do I know your name?"

Charles gave a small smile, accepting the evident change of subject for now. "You might have heard of my father, Brian Xavier."

Now Erik remembered and he wondered why it had slipped his mind before. Everyone knew the man who had sacrificed himself during a terrorist attack to save hundreds of people. "Hero of the Parliament, of course. Must be hard living up to the name."

"The best thing is not to try. How do you live up to your name?"

"I don't."

Charles nodded. "How did you come to work for MI6? Did you always know your parents were agents?"

"I-" Erik was lost for words. He thought of the night of the murder, of the fire; he thought of that list his parents were hiding; he thought of his time with Shaw; he thought of meeting his boss... he stood up and left the office under Charles's surprised gaze.

What did his parents' death have to do with his ability to perform well on the field? What did this nosey, albeit charming man know about his life? He may have read about it, but he had no idea. He hadn't been there when Erik's mum and dad had been murdered over a piece of paper, and he'd barely survived; therefore he didn't know the feeling, and he had no right to talk about it. He hated the list his parents had stolen with a passion. This was why he was an orphan, and this was why Shaw had kept him around all this time. Yet now, as an adult, he was still looking for it. 

Feeling peckish and needing a distraction, Erik made his way to the kitchen to grab one of the energy bars that were always available. They called it the kitchen, but despite its cooking facilities, no one actually cooked any meals. They bought frozen pizzas and ready meals, or more often than not, had granola bars and junk food. This could partly explain Erik's astonishment when he walked into the sleek, modern space and saw a basket full of muffins on the central island unit. The basket was so large he could barely wrap his arms around it if he tried, not that he'd want to; this was way too strange to approach. He wouldn't be surprised if it were hiding a bomb.

As he walked around the island to avoid it, Erik saw a second basket behind it, this one full of colourful fruits. It was still wrapped in that clear plastic paper people wrapped gift baskets in and fruits looked ready to topple over at the slightest movement. Erik's colleagues Alex, Sean, and Moira were discussing it from the other end of the room. Erik made his way over.

"What's with the weird gifts?" he asked them. "Don't we scan everything that enters here?"

"I'm telling you, it's suspicious!" Sean exclaimed as if he was proving a point to the others. 

"Someone sent a present," Moira said with a shrug although she hadn't touched the baskets either.

"If it's a bomb, we're all fucked," Alex added. 

"Why are you all sitting there then? Do something," Erik said.

Alex shook his head. "Last time I thought the cleaner was a mole, Guy sent me a look and made me apologise to the man who'd been working here for 12 years."

"Oh, the look," Sean nodded with a shiver.

Erik rolled his eyes. "He doesn't give people looks. Look at you chickens. It’s a wonder how you're still alive."

"You won't understand, he loves you," Alex said with a shrug. "Open them yourself then, and see what's inside. If you don't die from explosion or poisoning, throw me one of those muffins."

Erik decided to prove them he was the better man and made his way back to the baskets. This time, he noticed a note stapled to the fruits basket. 'Enjoy some treats and my contribution to your 5 A Day.' This wasn't any less suspicious. 

"I heard about the muffins," Raven came in the room, making a beeline for the basket. Then she saw Erik and nodded at him. "What's up?" Before Erik could protest, Raven had already ripped the wrapping paper and taken a bite of a double chocolate chip muffin. She looked at him and mumbled "what?" around her bite of cake.

"Spit it out, don't you look at where the food comes from before you eat? They could be poisonous!" Erik said, snatching the muffin out of Raven's hand. 

Raven groaned at losing her food and swallowed the piece she had been able to take. Then she burst out laughing. "Poisonous? You're paranoid."

"Of course, I'm paranoid. Do you remember where we are? No one is supposed to know we're there. We don't get gifts."

"Calm down, psycho, they're from my brother," Raven said, grabbing another muffin since hers was now on the floor. "You weren't there, I'm not sure you've met him..." she paused. "I definitely would've heard about that. You’re his type."

"Alright then, give me one," Alex said, although he came up to the basket to pick his treat. "Tell the doc thanks."

"That's nice of him," Moira said. "You children do realise there are fruits as well over there, right?"

"Raven, are you a Xavier?" Erik asked with the purest confusion. The fact that he'd never known that, and that Raven had admitted Erik was Charles's type battled in his mind for attention. 

"We don't have the same last name, if that's what confused you," Raven said with a shrug. 

"Isn't it a conflict of interest that he evaluates you? At least he already knows you, so it's not an absolute intrusion of privacy."

Raven snorted. "He doesn't evaluate me. That would be weird." 

"They're good, in any case," Moira declared. "Does he cook?"

"Yeah," Raven nodded. "And he has ridiculous aprons, it's embarrassing."

They laughed, and Erik left them, but not before grabbing a muffin for the road.


	2. Chapter 2

_ The only thing he felt was the pain. There was no escape from it, no reprieve. It was meant to be that way. The man had said it would help him remember, but every time the sharp blade cut into his skin, Erik's mind went blank, and he wished he could die. Blood from his arm dripped down his wrist onto the floor.  _

_ "Look what you make me do. If you'd just told me..." the man said in a disturbingly soothing voice. "If you'd just told me, we wouldn't be here." _

_ "I don't know what it is," Erik panted, trying not to cry. Nothing infuriated the man more than seeing him weak.  _

_ "I believe that, but you know where it is. We'll make it eventually. You'll see."  _

_ Erik gritted his teeth, but the repressed scream still escaped his throat. _

Waking up with a start, Erik sat up in bed, heart racing and struggling to breathe. He looked around to remind his brain of where he was, and most importantly, where he wasn't. The fact that he was used to the recurring nightmares didn't mean waking up from them was any easier. Sometimes he was making up horrible situations for himself, and sometimes, like the one he'd just had, he was reliving a memory, the memory of his 14-year-old self struggling to survive. It was 15 years ago now, yet he wasn't free from the memories, from the nightmares, from the man. 

The stress of the mission hadn't helped either. Yes, the Maximoff twins' situation had resonated with his own experience, yes he'd killed a man with his bare hands at the thought of those innocent children suffering the same treatment he had. 

Erik reached under his pillow to check the gun was still there but found a surprise. He couldn't grab anything with his right hand, the cast that was wrapped around his hand and wrist was stopping him from closing his fist. He sighed. He was going to have a hard time getting used to this. At the very least, it covered some of the large scars, courtesy of the man in his nightmares.

Checking the time on his alarm clock, he hopped in the shower, but not before wrapping his hand in protective plastic. He felt utterly ridiculous but didn't want to tell Jean he'd messed with the cast after only 24 hours. Oddly, he wanted her to believe he could be responsible. 

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

The kids hadn't left their room since they had arrived and Erik had taken it upon himself to bring them food and try to entertain them the best he could, which was not a lot. He didn't know children and had not needed to learn until now. They never uttered a word, barely ate and didn't pay much attention to what Erik was saying. He was starting to grow desperate. And yes, it wasn't his job and he was as far from a babysitter as was humanly possible, but these kids were unique in a way he couldn't explain.

This day was special because he finally managed to get them to leave the room and come with him to the kitchen for lunch. They never walked far from the walls and looked so much around them Erik was worried they'd get a stiff neck. The kitchen was lively at this time of the day, with most notably the new shrink talking to Sean. The twins were walking towards two chairs when Alex arrived with a gun in hand, holding it up for all to see.

"This baby saved my life, ladies and gentlemen," he announced.

The twins both screamed in a way that made Erik wince and was reminiscent of the time they were hiding under the bed. They ran to hide under the table after frantically looking around and seeing no other option.

"Are you a fucking moron?" Erik exclaimed, and the raging thunder in his voice was enough to make Alex put the gun away. "Do I need to recommend you for the most basic training on how to behave around weapons?"

"Relax, I wasn't going to harm anyone," Alex grumbled.

"Your intentions don't matter," Erik retorted, fuming. He glanced under the table, and the twins were huddled together, Pietro with his arm in front of Wanda. There Erik was again, not only furious but also clueless. 

Before Erik could react, Charles had walked to the table and knelt in front of it to see the twins and give them a reassuring smile. "We're so sorry about that. You're safe here. Alex is not going to hurt you," he said. He stayed silent a couple of seconds before he continued. "I'm Charles. You're Wanda and Pietro, is that right?" he asked, but the twins didn't react. "I know this is a big place, and everyone is all grown up, and you feel lost, but no one will harm you here, I promise. It's normal to feel overwhelmed. It's a big change for you. If you feel like it later, I have a few board games at home that I could bring for you."

Erik realised the twins were actually listening now, not just staring at a point in the distance. Eventually, they moved one level up and sat on the chairs at the table. Charles gave them his sandwich and Erik got started on another one just in case. If Charles was a magician who could get them to eat, then he would take full advantage of it.

While they were eating, Charles turned back to Erik and walked towards him. "They don't have it easy, poor darlings," he said.

"They don't," Erik had to agree.

Charles left a minute later since he had an appointment but not before giving the twins pieces of a brownie he'd made.

Erik eventually made himself some lunch and this was the moment Guy chose to walk in and grab a bottle of flavoured water from the fridge. Erik had never understood the man's fascination with sweet water, but it wasn't his business. Unfortunately, it wasn't one of those days where the boss was too busy to talk or look around himself. His eyes zoomed in on the twins eating at the table before he turned his head to Erik.

"How’re the social services matters going?" Guy asked.

Erik's brain scrambled for an explanation, an excuse, anything to justify why he hadn't contacted social services to relocate the children. He blanked for 10 seconds because he couldn't explain it. Then he thought of Charles and the excuse came to him fully-formed. 

"Your new doc bonded with them. He's helping them. I think we should give it time."

Guy seemed to consider it for a moment. "Do you really think so?"

"They need help, and he gets through to them," Erik replied.

"Alright then, they may stay  _ for now _ . As I told you though, I don't think this is any place for children," Guy said before taking a sip of his bottle. "So you stopped your whining about Dr Xavier?"

"No," Erik rolled his eyes. He hadn't whined. He didn't whine. He had merely complained. "But he has a way with children."

"I'd say don't be dense, but..." Guy didn't finish his sentence as he left the kitchen. Erik knew his boss thought he was way too stubborn. And maybe he was. For now, he took the children back to their room and tried to play some card game with them. It didn't help that he only had one free hand. Damn that cast.

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

_ Charles's POV _

To say Charles Xavier's life had taken an unexpected turn a month ago was an understatement. He was still trying to wrap his head around it all. First, he had reconnected with his estranged sister at Sharon Xavier's funeral. It was strange, seeing Raven again after such a long time. He had been arrogant at the time and had tried to control his only close family member. They had got into a fight and Charles later realised she was right; in trying to protect her, he had suffocated her, and the best option was to get away from him.

Reconnecting with Raven had been surprisingly easy, although she seemed overly attentive to her surroundings, and even a little jumpy. She told him she was a freelancer and travelled a lot, but that she lived in London. He told her about his studies in psychology and his work in his own practice, also in London. It was later, when she showed up to his house with a man in a suit and two more waiting outside his door, that he learned the truth. And when your sister is a secret agent for the bloody MI-6, that gives you a lot to think about. 

It turned out there was an opening for a psychologist and Charles had come recommended. Charles was certainly not reassured by the fact he didn't know what had happened to the previous one, but the opportunity to talk to actual spies was a big enough bonus. Charles may have fanboy-ed a little.

"Give me dirt on someone," Raven said, pulling Charles out of his daydream. He was sitting in his usual armchair, a steaming cup of tea in his hands, and Raven had just plopped herself onto the opposite chair, sitting sideways on it in a way that  _ had _ to be uncomfortable. 

"You know I can't." Charles shook his head, his lips tugged into a light smile. "Get off, you'll damage the armrest."

She did not get off.

"What perks do I even get then?" Raven asked with a pout. "I'm sure Alex is a freak." 

"We are all freaks in our own way."

Raven rolled her eyes. "Ugh, stop. The only one I know is Erik, and the novelty of that has passed."

"You're tired of gossiping about someone?" Charles asked with a raised eyebrow. He couldn't help but be interested in Erik. The man was a contradiction. He broke his hand on someone's face, wouldn't sit through an evaluation but visited traumatised children every day to check on them. According to what Raven had told him, he even lied to his superior - and Charles guessed that was out of character - to keep them there. There was something about him. 

"You just try sleeping next to him, but since we're not giving away crispy details..."

Raven's expressions hadn't changed that much; she smirked as if she knew she'd cracked the code. Charles had made the mistake of reacting when Raven had casually mentioned she'd slept with Erik once during a desperate mission. In Charles's defence, they were at his house and he'd already had one too many drinks. Raven had been on the hunt since then as if this had been a test Charles had failed. Charles affirming their relationship was strictly professional proved entirely futile. 

Charles took a sip of his tea before setting it down on the side table. He had planned to come in much earlier than usual to be able to review a few files quietly, but Raven had ambushed him and invited herself in his office. Beyond highly confidential and terribly dangerous if they fell into the wrong hands, no identifying information was allowed to leave this room. He always had to prove to the guard at the door of the building that he wasn't taking anything out. He even had to leave a pen inside and wasn't allowed a smartphone or a personal computer. This meant that he couldn't ever take work home to enjoy next to a warm fire. Really, it mostly meant on the days he came to MI6, he was in the building for very long hours. 

"Speaking of... although I enjoy yo-" Charles was preparing to throw Raven out when there was a knock on the door. He glanced at the mechanical clock. 6:23. "Come in," he answered. 

All hopes of doing some quiet work before people woke up vanished when Charles saw Erik standing at the door. He always looked guarded, as if crossing the threshold into Charles's office was like going at war naked, with no weapon, or ally. Erik was wearing black from his socks to the collar of his turtleneck, which gave him a kind of house burglar look. Had he met the man in a bar though, that would not have put off Charles in the slightest. Raven was right; he really needed to keep it in his pants. Erik was still wearing the cast on his arm, which Charles had heard from Jean was a miracle to accomplish.

"We need to talk," Erik said, looking at no one in particular.

This time, Raven took the hint. "See you later," she said, getting up and walking out the door. Erik took a step to the side to let her out.

"Hello, Erik. Early start today?" Charles said, smiling at Erik. 

This was the first time in two weeks he was back here and Charles needed to be very careful. He didn't want to keep up with this dance they had of Charles not filling up Erik's form and Erik not turning up for evaluation. Even though he had the approval of Guy, the team's boss, the last thing he wanted was to alienate the patient. The goal was to help, not hinder.

Erik closed the door with a sigh and turned back to look at Charles. "You could say that," he said.

"How are the children?" Charles asked.

"You gave them unrealistic food expectations."

Charles chuckled. "I'm happy to cook for them."

"You gave everyone unrealistic expectations," Erik continued. 

"With the dreadful diet that everyone keeps here, I can't say I'm surprised," Charles gave Erik another smile and then leaned forward. "What can I do for you?"

Erik took a few steps forward until he was standing behind the armchair opposite Charles. He put his hands on the back of the chair. "You know what you can do for me. But I wanted to thank you for backing up my story, with Guy and the children." 

Charles had been waiting for Erik to acknowledge and talk to him about what he’d told Guy, but he wanted Erik to come to him. He’d only known about it because Raven had been present and she’d told him later, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to confirm the story when questioned. 

"I understand that they are important to you. I am happy to have them around, if that helps their health, as long as you help your own health as well."

Charles got up and walked to his filing cabinet where he retrieved Erik's file and the infamous bright orange form that was one of the reasons for Erik's visit. Erik didn't say anything, just followed him with his eyes as he came back to his seat. The file replaced the cup of tea on the coffee table and Charles took a sip before speaking again. "Would you like a cup of tea?" he asked. "I am not here to annoy you, Erik. Despite what some movies and stereotypes want you to think, I don't expect you to start sobbing and go into a monologue. This is a conversation, I'm not going to simply look at you and wait."

"Except this is a conversation where I have to watch everything I say because you'll analyse it," Erik replied.

"You don't have to watch anything. I'll never judge you for anything you say, or anything you do here, and I certainly won't mention you to anyone else. This is a safe place. Now I understand it can take a moment to get comfortable with the idea. All I am asking is for you to try, to stop resisting me..." Charles cleared his throat to try to hide his word mix-up as his cheeks tinted light pink. "I mean, the therapy."

"Ok," was the only response that Charles got. Erik started walking around the room, looking very interested in what was on the walls. Charles saw him stop in front of his Oxford diplomas before moving on to the bookshelves.

"How is your hand?" Charles asked. "I hear you're not the easiest patient."

"You already know I'm not," Erik turned to shoot an amused glance at Charles. "But Dr Grey doesn't have any blackmail material on me."

"Except for your physical wellness, of course."

"Of course," Erik repeated.

"How did you join MI6?" Charles asked. He had to start with the soft questions. Evidently, asking about Erik's parents last time had made him run away. He had to go in more subtly.

"Guy saved me. Naturally, I enrolled."

"Do you like it?"

"Who wouldn't?"

Erik was looking at Charles but he quickly averted his eyes and kept walking. He was now behind Charles who internally cursed himself for putting rugs on the floor as he now had no idea where the man was. Having a licence to kill intelligence agent he had personally crossed behind him was a little unnerving.

"I wouldn't," Charles said, turning his head so he could watch Erik pace. Erik was so uncomfortable it was almost painful to watch. Charles was used to a little reluctance, but at his practice, every patient came of their own volition. It was something else to try to help an obtuse, interrogation-trained spy who didn't want help. "It is a very dangerous, precise, pressure-heavy occupation. It can also be very lonely."

Erik had stopped walking, thankfully, and was leaning against the heavy oak desk along the right wall, facing Charles. Charles had to turn his head to the left to see him but was grateful for the pause in pacing.

"I count that as an advantage," Erik said. 

Charles nodded, reaching out to take his notepad and pen. "Mr Lewis thinks very highly of you."

"I know. I'm his best. And yet he subjects me to this just because I bashed someone's head in."

Charles frowned slightly. "Do you honestly think that's what this is?" 

"I know that's what this is. You're not keeping me here for my natural charm."

Charles hesitated. On the one hand, it would be good for Erik to know exactly what he was looking for, but on the other hand, it very well could backfire and have terrible consequences on their frail relationship. He was more interested in what had made Erik punch a man to death than the fact he'd done it at all - which was still a terrible thing. He was more puzzled by Erik's reports missing details due to shortness of memory than by him making up his own orders. Not that all those things weren't worrying by themselves. So Charles hesitated. 

"Or are you?" Erik asked with a one-sided smirk.

Charles chuckled. "Sure, I am. Are you in a relationship?" he asked.

Erik shook his head. 

"What about friends?"

"I'm not a big people person. They're okay."

"Raven told me she works a lot with you." It was all Charles could do  _ not _ to ask the question. How did you end up sleeping with my sister? 

"I'm still getting used to the fact that you're Raven's sister. I never would have guessed. We work well together. She's remarkable," Erik said, his longest sentence yet.

Charles nodded. "Agreed. She told me about your... relationship, and I assure you, it's not going to make it awkward between us, or anything."

Erik tilted his head to the side, watching Charles with a bemused look. "What are you talking about?" Just as Charles was about to reply something dumb, Erik continued. "If she told you we had an affair or something, it's obviously untrue. She wishes."

Charles was the confused one, this time. Why would she lie? Had he misunderstood? "My apologies. I must have misunderstood."

"Trust me, she doesn't see anyone. She's desperate for the little Q. You know, the nerdy one who makes the toys?"

Charles wasn't sure who they were talking about but nodded anyway. He would have to investigate and interrogate Raven. In the end, Erik didn't storm out and agreed to come back a few days later. Charles counted this as a win. 

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

It was a rather busy day in the end, and he'd been up early, so by 5 p.m., Charles was ready to call it a day. Part of his mind had stayed on Raven after she told me at midday she was going on a mission right away. She couldn't say anything, of course; not where she was going, not how long, not what for. He knew she could take care of herself. If there was anyone who could protect themselves, it was an intelligence agent, but if there was anyone who deliberately and repeatedly walked into danger, it was also an intelligence agent. He was glad he wasn't evaluating Raven, he wasn't sure he could handle the stories he heard from other agents coming out of her mouth. Being trapped, cutting it short, being shot at, tortured.

No, she would be just fine. 

A knock on the door stopped Charles picking up his empty teacup. "Come in," he said. 

The door opened and Guy, the department's boss, walked in and closed the door behind him. "Dr Xavier, you were leaving?" he asked.

"Mr Lewis, hello, I was about to, yes. Did you need anything?" Charles asked.

Guy looked exactly the same as the last time he'd seen him, and the time before. Black suit and white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was holding the jacket over his arm, so he, too, was leaving. 

"Please call me Guy, otherwise I’ll feel very old. I merely wanted to check up on you," Guy gestured to the armchairs. "Shall we sit down?"

Charles was not used to being offered a seat in his own office but he nodded and sat down in his usual armchair. Once Guy was sitting, he resumed talking. "How have things been? I apologise for not having the time to come ask how underground life is treating you."

Charles chuckled. "No need to apologise, I understand your position keeps you busy."

Guy nodded. "Judging by the little scene in the kitchen the other day, I take it you and Erik have patched things up?"

"He was only a little reluctant to my methods, that's all."

"What is your professional opinion on the children?" Guy asked. 

"I haven't been in contact with them for a long time so far, but I can say they've suffered a traumatic experience and need all the patience and care they can get. It's a terrible thing they've been through."

Guy nodded. Charles could see this was not what he'd wanted to hear. "What I mean is, do you think the children and Erik are beneficial to each other?" 

Charles took a moment to think about his answer. Obviously, the children's health and wellbeing was a priority. Did Erik have that in mind as well, or was he misguided in some sort of attempt to fix his own past? Were the children better with social services starting over with new strangers, or in an underground secret facility that was in no way meant to host children? Charles could see that Wanda and Pietro had started being more comfortable in Erik's presence and Erik seemed different when he interacted with them. He wasn't the stubborn, sharp, defensive man ready to shoot at a moment's notice like he was when Charles asked him any question; he was smiling, soft, and displayed  _ some  _ patience. 

"If you're worried about betraying him," Guy continued, taking Charles's thinking for hesitation, "I know he lied that time about you and them bonding, and I don't care. I'm only interested in an honest answer from you." 

"Do you think they are still in danger outside?" Charles asked back.

"It's a very real possibility that they remain targets," Guy said.

"Then it's best not to make them go through the witness protection programme."

Guy nodded. "How pleased are you to be working alongside your sister?" he asked.

Charles smiled. "I'm thankful for the opportunity. She is quite impressive. She only had a minute at noon to tell me she was leaving and I can't know any details. I suppose that's the part I'm less fan of."

"Don't worry about her. She should be back within a week. She's a champion in camouflage."

"I'm not surprised. She always won at hide-and-seek when we were children."

"So it was in her all along." Guy got up again and took his suit jacket. "Well, Dr Xavier. If you need anything, you know where my office is. I'm glad to have you here."

Charles thanked him warmly and left at the same time to go home. Even as he tried to relax with a book, his conversation with Erik and the fate of the twins were on his mind all evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Erik loved being on missions. The sense of purpose, the thrill of danger, the adrenaline... but he never realised how stressful it was until he was safely back at the base. After the debrief and the evaluations, he suddenly had nothing left to do. Sometimes he got to skip the mandatory rest period and go back out the next day, but he doubted now that Charles would let him. Erik knew of all the other agents' techniques to get through readjustment, Raven slept it off, Alex ate everything he came into contact with, Moira did yoga (yes you heard it right) and shooting practice but Erik's thing was not sleeping. How could he sleep peacefully after not allowing his body to fully relax for an extended period of time? Over the years, he'd found that working out helped get rid of that excess energy and bring his body back around.

The gym was well-stocked, what with MI6 employees' bodies being their primary tools. What they called the gym was a series of rooms related to training. The room Erik was in now was the one regular people would call a gym; it had plenty of cardio equipment to exhaust oneself on, and machines to exercise every and all parts of the body. As in traditional gyms, too, there were TVs blasting world news. This was where the resemblance with regular gyms stopped, the other rooms were more focused on spy-specific skills. 

Having a cast on one arm didn't mean Erik couldn't work out. Sure, he couldn't use machines like the bench press (although he could try it one-handed... but that would probably be dangerous) but anything that didn't need two arms passed. He'd started easy on the treadmill about half an hour ago, and now had just switched to the leg press machine, concentrating on the burning sensation in his thighs every time he pushed the weight up. 

"Some people would take a break after breaking their hand. No pun intended."

Erik recognised Guy's voice behind him and he gave a chuckle. "I guess you and I are not some people."

"I guess not."

Guy walked around the machine to be in front of Erik and he set his water bottle down. The gym was the only place where he got out of his everlasting black suit. He'd go for gym shorts and a white tank top. Erik wore the same gym shorts but a black long-sleeved shirt instead of the typical tank top, even though it was highly impractical to have to roll up the sleeve of his right arm to be above the cast. The scars on his arms and chest were something he didn't want people to see.

"Here I thought I'd get to be alone at 4 a.m," Erik said.

"Or you got the habit from me. So how's readjustment?" Guy asked. 

"The usual," Erik replied with a shrug. "I have to put a damn plastic bag around the cast when I shower. How stupid is that?"

"The human body really is fragile," Guy mused. He settled on a machine not far from Erik's and they worked out in silence for a while. 

The TVs were still showing CNN and Erik couldn't help but listen to it when he heard a familiar name.

"Since announcing his run for the American presidency a month ago, Sebastian Shaw has received a number of supportive voices, including the NRA who sees in him 'the candidate of the future’..." the voice of the reporter said over some footage of Shaw at a rally.

Erik pushed the weights up so hard they almost derailed the machine. He got off and all but ran to grab the remote that was on a bench against the wall to mute the TV.

"It was him behind Maddox Kane," he said, too loud in the near-empty room. 

Guy got back up as well. "What's his play against Senator Maximoff?"

What Erik appreciated in Guy was that he didn't discredit his theories. He always tried to see the logic behind them, to understand where they came from. Sometimes he did end up refusing theories, but not after at least considering them. 

"It has to be something to do with the elections," Erik replied, clenching his only free fist in frustration. He wanted to punch something. 

Guy took a sip of his water and gestured to the door to his right, at the end of the gym. This was the boxing ring, where they trained in close combat. "Do you want to go a few rounds? Just please don't use your cast as a weapon. I'd like to keep my teeth. I'm seeing M tomorrow."

Erik cast him an intrigued look. "What does she want?"

"I'll find out soon enough."

They got to the boxing ring and started sparring, which turned out to be an effective stress reliever for Erik. Fighting with one hand was an ordeal, and Erik kept having to restrain his reflexes that were making him start two-hand moves. In a real fight, he would obviously use the cast as an extra weapon, but hurting Guy was not an option. He owed too much to the man to fuck him up. 

Just because Erik was 20 years younger didn't mean he always had the advantage either. Since Guy had been the one to train him, they shared some of the same techniques. He may not have been on the field anymore, but Guy had certainly kept his shape. 

It was an hour or so before they called it off, both panting and sitting on the edge of the ring. Erik's sweaty shirt stuck to his skin in the most unpleasant way so he showered and got dressed with more or less difficulty, the highlight of which being forcing his casted hand through the tight sleeve of his turtleneck.

When he looked at the time, he was pleased. It was late enough that he could visit the twins.

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

It wasn't that Erik didn't expect to ever see someone cooking in the kitchen at 8 in the morning, it was that he really, _really_ didn't expect to ever see someone cooking in the kitchen at 8 in the morning. And if someone was, it would be Guy making a pretentious French dish, not Charles in an apron, smiling at the two kids sitting on stools next to him. They were smiling back. Erik felt a wave of warmth at the domestic sight. The twins sat with cups in their hands and Erik wondered, had Charles turned them into tea lovers already? 

"That was one Easter egg hunt I remember," Charles laughed while cracking an egg into the bowl. "I ate so much chocolate I looked like a balloon." Charles put his arms in round brackets on his sides and blew his cheeks to look as round as possible, making Wanda giggle softly. It was the purest sound. Erik had never heard as much as the sound of her voice before. "Do you like chocolate too?"

Wanda nodded fervently and pointed to Pietro who shrugged. 

Charles stirred his mixture and when he turned to put the eggshell in the bin, he saw Erik still standing there. "Good morning, Erik," he said, and now Erik had to walk into the room. He could no longer watch from the doorway like a creeper. 

"Morning, what are you cooking?" Erik asked and almost choked on his own breath when he saw the front of Charles's apron. It was one of those silly aprons Erik had no idea why people bought. The words ' _Kiss the_ cook' were written in bold white letters on the black apron, with a red lipstick mark on the side of it. It was utterly ridiculous. 

"Pancake breakfast. There's enough if you want some," Charles offered. 

"Thank you, b-" Erik stopped himself when he saw Pietro waving at him, with a moustache of milk from the hot chocolate in his hand. He could stay for a bit. "Thank you. Alex keeps a stash of maple syrup somewhere."

"Wonderful," Charles winked, in a way that made Erik wonder if he had really talked about maple syrup or if he'd said something else. 

Erik went to stand next to the kids and he gave them a smile. "Hot chocolate, lucky you."

"I was just finishing to tell the story of my best, or worst depending on how you look at it, Easter egg hunt," Charles said, putting a spoonful of batter onto the pan. "I have a secret ingredient. Do you want to know what it is?" The twins nodded, listening avidly. Charles leaned down and whispered something in their ears. The twins nodded again, solemnly. "But don't worry if you ever have to tell someone. If you're struggling, you should always be able to talk to someone; someone you can trust," he glanced up at Erik. "someone who will listen and help with your secrets." 

Charles carried on with making the pancakes and Erik stayed silent and thinking, only taking out plates and cutlery -frustratingly slowly, damn cast. The twins seemed to open up a little more every day and he was pleased to see it. He wondered what he would have been like had he been _rescued_ after the attack on his parents' home, had he benefited from the luxury of recovery. Such thoughts were never good and were thankfully stopped by Alex's arrival in the kitchen.

"Who's making breakfast? I'm starving," Alex said, spotting Charles flipping pancakes. "The Doc has it all."

"Why thank you, Alex," Charles said with a chuckle. "This was for the children but I can make more for-" he was interrupted by Sean's arrival and exclamation of 'pancakes!!', "-the other children."

"I'll help you," Moira said, coming behind Sean.

"Thank you, dear," Charles replied and this time Erik had to look away for another reason. 

Soon, Erik was sitting at the table with the twins and plates full of pancakes while Charles made more for the rest of the team who'd been lured in by the sweet smell. Erik watched Charles and Moira cooking and laughing. Moira wasn't one to laugh often, she took everything very seriously, but it seemed Charles had this effect on people. He was like a ball of light. When he looked away, the twins had almost already finished their plates, making Erik wonder whether the food was that good or he'd been staring that long.

"Is it good?" he asked. Pietro didn't wait for the end of the question to nod. 

Erik took a bite of his remaining pancakes after Pietro stole one of them. They were good, the kids weren't lying. There was a pang in his heart, not dissimilar to the way he felt after a nightmare, and just like that, he felt worse and worse. Charles had mentioned a secret ingredient. Erik knew what it was now.

Cinnamon.

Sebastian Shaw's name imposed itself onto Erik's mind and when he tried to push it away, as usual, it didn't budge, rather became firmer. Shaw's face came next, alongside a memory of Erik himself as a child sitting in his parents' kitchen. A bundle of memories associated with that face assaulted Erik's mind, and he had to put his head in his hands, fork clattering down on the table. 

Erik saw himself answering the man's questions; he saw himself crying, bleeding, fuming; he saw himself holding a gun to his own head. And that _damn_ song. Nothing made sense. He couldn't stop it. 

Erik felt hands on his shoulders and a voice, Charles's voice, saying - what was it saying? How Erik wished his brain would focus on Charles's voice instead of Shaw's pernicious whispers in his head. 

Erik became aware of crying to his left and suddenly he could focus and recognise Wanda's sobs. He was hurting the children. This had to stop.

"Erik, are you alright? Can you breathe? Is this an allergy?" Charles's voice was soft, why was it so soft? 

"I'm fine," Erik eventually managed to utter. It only took a moment after that for him to retrieve his mental capacities. His body was nonetheless extremely displeased and his insides made a painful twist. He only had time to get up and rush to the sink on wobbly legs before he vomited all the contents of his stomach. He coughed and grabbed a tissue to wipe his mouth. 

Turning around and leaning against the counter, Erik noticed Charles was the only one left in the kitchen. Had everyone left or had he made them leave, that was the question. The overwhelming feeling had left as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Erik a confused and exhausted mess. This wasn't the first time it had happened to him. He remembered eating apple pie in New York a year back and being assaulted with memories of Shaw. Americans were notorious for loving cinnamon in desserts and apple pie wasn't excluded. It wasn't an allergy per se, but it was definitely an unwanted reaction he'd sought to avoid ever since. 

"Everyone else loved the pancakes..." Charles started. 

Erik looked up at Charles to find open, concerned eyes looking back at him. "I can't handle cinnamon, that's all."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know to warn you about that."

"Of course you didn’t, it's not in my file," Erik said bitterly before sighing. "Sorry," he mumbled. 

"What happened? You looked in terrible pain."

The memory of trying to kill himself came back to Erik's head and he snorted. _That_ was terrible pain, the image of it 15 years later was nothing. "I wasn't. Just some memories." 

Charles was pensive for a moment, and Erik feared he would ask more questions. If that was the case, he'd leave for sure. He'd agreed to sessions, yes, but that didn't include discussing feelings in the middle of the kitchen. This was where he drew the line.

Erik replayed what just happened in his mind and something struck him. "Did I hurt the children?" he asked.

"No, but they got a little scared."

Erik sighed. Seeing him in this state must not have been good for them. They needed stability. "I'll go see them later."

"Moira took them away before they could see what was in your stomach," Charles said.

Erik raised an eyebrow at that, and asked, because what did he have to lose exactly? "So, you and Moira?"

Charles laughed. "Why would you say that?"

Erik shrugged. "No reason."

"Dating someone at my place of work, especially at a secret agency, wouldn't be a very good idea," Charles said. "Anyway, when I was little, I used to have a very unfortunate strawberry allergy. However, I decided I liked them too much and I would not be stopped. They had to stop buying them so I wouldn't poison myself, even though they were my mother's favourites," he chuckled. 

Erik gave a light smile. Ok, so that was cute. "Is it the same mother as Raven's who passed not long ago? I'm sorry."

Charles nodded. "It's alright, I had been on my own for a long time already."

Erik frowned. Being the champion of tragic family stories, he could tell when there was one. And there was one. The fact that Charles was a pure ray of sunshine made Erik more curious as to what it was. "How so?" he asked. 

Charles looked at Erik and gave him a little smile, although this one held a sad tint. "It's not important."

Erik didn't accept that answer. "It's not fair, you know everything about me and I don't know anything about you."

"I wouldn't call the few words you say here and there 'everything about you'", Charles remarked. Of course, he knew he was right. 

Erik snorted but nodded. "Point taken."

Once he was sure he felt better, Erik stopped by the twins' room to reassure them that everything was okay and he was safe. They insisted he stay and the three of them watched 101 Dalmatians on the TV, with popcorn of course. 


	4. Chapter 4

The next time Erik saw Charles, he was rid of the cast on his hand. In its place was a splint that Erik kept picking on. All was well as long as he had a cast that he couldn't remove but this frail little splint that Dr Grey had put on him now couldn't resist his fretting and constant touching. There wasn't even a need for it. He was fine. He could move his fingers and it didn't even hurt anymore. Maybe people were usually babies about this sort of stuff, but he could handle a little hand fracture. Nevermind his protests, he was still stuck with this.

He knocked on the door to Charles's office but didn't wait for an answer before opening it. He had an appointment anyway. 

"Erik, hello, how are you?" Charles asked, standing up from his office chair when Erik arrived. His smile felt brighter than the sun, and why did he always have to be chirpy about everything.

"Never better, I literally just got a weight lifted off my hand," Erik said, holding up his right hand for Charles to see the splint. His time with the cast had seemed like an eternity. 

"That's wonderful. Good news for your hand."

Erik nodded and waited for Charles to retrieve his usual spot on his armchair. Charles seemed to have embraced the grandpa lifestyle, with his cup of tea and his cardigan over a fully buttoned shirt, looking cuter than he had any right to be. He even had the piles of books everywhere and the plush brown armchairs. 

"Would you like a drink?" Charles asked.

"If you have anything stronger than tea..." Erik replied although he'd looked around the room last time and knew there wasn't anything else.

Charles smiled. "I'm afraid not. And even then, it's 10 in the morning."

"I'm not sure what point you're making," Erik shrugged. "So are you going to ask me if I made any friends this week?"

"I don't know, did you?"

Erik snorted. "I went out to play with the neighbourhood kids," Erik said. "Are you proud of me?"

"Very."

Charles was looking at him with a soft expression as if he patiently waited for him to say something he knew he was going to say. Erik himself didn't know what he was going to say. He was quiet for a while, but then so was Charles, and it reminded Erik of a very useless previous shrink he had been forced to talk to. Well, he had barely talked anyway. 

"They assigned me a therapist when I first arrived here. A total nutjob," Erik blurted out to fill the silence. He had never felt the need to fill the silence before. He usually relished being quiet and letting the other person make the conversation if they really wanted to, but this felt like disappointing Charles, somehow. When had he started caring about that? He started pacing around the room again. 

"It looks like I have big shoes to fill," Charles said. "How old were you?"

"15. Tried to fill me with pills."

"I can see how this could not be ideal. Are you against any kind of medication?" Charles asked.

"I don't need them. If you try to give me tranquilisers or something, I am out of here."

Charles held up his hands in a peace gesture. "I won't if you don’t want to. What did you talk about?"

"He wanted to know about what happened with... with Shaw. I wouldn't tell him anything. He left, after a while," Erik said with a shrug. 

"The U.S. Presidential candidate Shaw?" Charles asked. He grimaced right after saying that. If he regretted asking, then Erik was glad, because he did too. 

"The one and only," Erik said, hating with every fibre of his being how thinking about the man sent a shiver down his spine and his heart rate up. "That's the first thing you've learnt about me that's not in my file, isn't it?"

Charles shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Far from it. Like I told you the first time, you're a lot more than a few facts on a piece of paper." Charles took in a breath before his next question. "Do you want to tell me about your parents?"

Erik snorted. "Asking about my mother, that's very lazy psychiatry, Dr Xavier."

Charles chuckled and gave Erik a warm smile. He hadn't answered the question, but he was still there. "Some stereotypes do have a basis."

Erik didn't speak for so long and didn't know himself if he'd even speak at all, but he went to sit on the edge of the desk again, as he'd done the last time. That way, he had a view of Charles and of the door, but he wasn't in the direct line of fire of Charles's gaze, nor was he sitting at his level. 

"My parents were both agents. They met on the job. They're dead."

Charles nodded slowly and his eyebrows came together in a sympathetic frown. "What do you remember about it?"

"Everything," Erik replied at first and elaborated after a long pause. "I heard screams and gunshots. I knew what to do. My parents had drills for this, and for so many other things. This Spy Kid shit doesn't even know the half of it. At first, I hid in a place they had built under the wooden floor of my room. Once the fire started, I suffocated and had to get out. I got downstairs but it was hell. I eventually passed out but not before seeing my parents' corpses, it wouldn't have been fun otherwise."

Erik hadn't planned on telling Charles any of this, but there was something in this man, a light in his eyes, a warmth in his smile, or... or something that Erik couldn't explain, that made his brain want to take some load off. It was a dangerous thing, that Erik did his best to resist, but he was only human, after all. 

"What were the attackers after?"

Erik still had enough of a handle on his brain not to answer that question. "I don't know," he said. No one else could know about the list, the one thing his parents were protecting and that had caused their deaths. They had died for nothing too, as Erik didn't know where it was and was unable to use it. He didn't even remember what it contained exactly, something which Shaw never seemed to believe during their time together.

Erik's parents had reportedly told him where the list was, but he was so bad at remembering things like that. So much seemed to slip his memory. He had immense trouble placing people's faces, something which drove crazy anyone who went on a mission with him, most often Raven. It wasn't an ideal trait for a spy, but then which was better, not remembering someone he'd briefly met the day before, or screwing every woman that came his way as 007 did.

"I don't see how this is relevant to whether or not I can do my job," he said so he wouldn't have to talk about the past anymore. 

"What happened to you after that?" Charles asked anyway. 

"Shaw happened," Erik simply said. There was a pause during which he held Charles's gaze. Then he added, "You don't need the details, trust me."

"Why not?" Charles asked. Was he for real? "Is it to protect me, or yourself? You don't need to worry about me. I have seen more than you think."

"I don't know. Leave it," Erik snapped. He left his spot on the desk and resumed his pacing to try and calm his nerves. Oh, how he hated this.

Erik didn't relax again for the rest of the session, and they called the end a bit early. Erik knew he was an obtuse bastard, but Charles wouldn't phrase it this way; he'd say words like trauma-response and difficulties or anything in the realm of 'it's perfectly normal'. But words didn't mean anything.


	5. Chapter 5

If he was going to make it back to the field soon, Erik had to check out the new toys. Q would kill him if he heard him call them toys. 'They're high-tech field assets, 9', Q always reprimanded him. Testing out the new inventions was one of Erik's favourite things about his job. He used to spend a lot of time down at the lab when he first started, the former Q having become quite fond of him. They'd spend extended amounts of time discussing various uses for toys, or what they wished they could have. It was particularly helpful to Erik that the man was an insomniac, as he himself couldn't sleep.

The man had finally retired two years ago now and in his place was a nerdy young thing that Erik had found was easy to disturb. After stopping by three times in the same week, the new Q had told Erik only to come if he was being called. He'd looked extremely flustered doing so, but he'd stood his ground nonetheless. Erik had respected that, at first, but he was never called, so he'd started dropping in again, albeit less frequently. 

Erik went down the final steps of the long staircase and found himself in front of the massive steely grey double doors of the lab. Those doors were rumoured to be able to bear an atomic shock, although whether that was to protect the lab from the outside, or the outside from the lab remained unknown. Erik moved his face close to the scanner on the right of the door and waited. It only took a second before the voice of the AI came out of the speaker, "Welcome, 009." As the door opened, Erik snorted, thinking back to the time Darwin had held Sean upside down to try to confuse the face scan. However, the only confusion was on Sean's part when Darwin accidentally dropped him and he almost gained a concussion in the process. 

Walking into the lab was a disorientating affair. It was a succession of rooms and hallways that probably had made sense to someone, at some point, but to no one Erik had ever known. A lot of them were just artillery and toys stock, the rest were divided between research, building, and the team's offices. Erik had learnt about the process that went into creating a new tool, but he'd forgotten it by now. 

After spending way too long searching, Erik finally found the man he was looking for, inside some sort of grid cage. He stepped out after realising he had company. Hank McCoy worked most hours of the day, breathing mechanics and biology. He was the youngest Quartermaster in the history of MI6 and took his job very seriously. He always dressed in his white lab coat over a shirt and tie combo, glasses on and brown hair combed neatly to the side. His kind blue eyes didn't miss any details, so much that he had once been able to tell Erik had eaten pizza while holding a communication tablet. Erik still hadn't heard the end of it. Hank was usually quiet, preferring to listen than to talk, but if anyone spoke ill or acted in any way that didn't suit him with his tools, he could become a real beast.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Q, what's new today?" Erik asked, glancing inside the cage to get a glimpse of a new experiment.

"I can't say yet, but it's very promising," Hank said, way too giddily. 

"You can make it up to me by showing me things that are done and I can try," Erik said.

"I heard you're not due to be out in the field for a while still," Hank said, walking a little further along the corridor to his office.

Erik briefly held up his splint with a sigh. "Don't tell me. All the more reasons for you to show me the new toy-tools."

They reached Hank's office and he sat at his desk, taking notes on his computer. The office was relatively small if one considered the size of the whole lab, but Hank spent maybe 5% of his time there, so it made sense in the end. He was also one of the few privileged ones with access to a computer inside the base.

"Maybe I'm busy and I don't have time?" Hank said, looking at Erik from above his glasses.

Erik's reply was cut by a knock on the open door of the office and he turned around to see a tall blond at the doorway. Raven being here meant a ton of impending awkwardness that Erik didn't care for and he was about to excuse himself when Raven spoke, and he changed his mind. 

"Hey Hank, I thought I'd come to say hi and introduce my brother, Charles. He's working in psych eval," Raven said, walking into the office to leave space for Charles to do the same.

"Nice to meet you, I don't think I've seen you here before."

"No, I haven't had the pleasure. Charles Xavier," Charles replied with a sunny smile that made Erik look away, and shook Hank's hand. Charles turned his head to Erik and attacked him with another smile. "Erik, lovely to see you again."

"What are you doing here?" Erik asked, rather rudely, actually. 

"Raven offered to show me around, and she wanted to see the new toys. She's shown me one and they do look incredibly inconspicuous."

"They're high-tech field assets, Charles," Erik said with a self-righteous smile. Charles had the nerve to laugh.

"I'm happy to show you around," Hank said, glancing at Raven furtively.

"What happened to being busy?" Erik asked because being a troublemaker was in his blood. 

Hank blushed but said nothing, just left his office and went back to the entrance to start the informal tour. There were a lot of talks about mechanics and the process of building things, how the team functioned. Charles seemed to have a keen interest in anything that touched human biology while Raven reminisced about using the tools during past missions.

"So I hit him with the tazer and kicked him in the nuts and Erik was still on his butt," Raven told them with a laugh.

"It's funny the way you invent stories," Erik said with a shake of his head. "The way I remember it, your shoulder was dislocated after he trapped you and he was about to put a bullet in  _ your _ head when I stopped him." He was aware Raven was trying to appear cool in front of her brother and Hank, and he would let her make stuff up, as long as it didn't make him look like a fool. He knew Charles was already judging him for his childhood, he didn't need to appear weak for something else too.

"It's funny the way you never remember things," Raven countered.

Erik glared at her and she gave him one of her wide victorious smiles. 

It felt like an eternity had passed before they arrived at the main testing lab, the place Erik had wanted to go to in the first place. The room was large and not very furnished. A few shelves and workbenches were scattered around but most of the space was clear, with a few targets on the wall for a test. This was usually where agents came to pick up tools and weapons before a mission and to get to freely try anything new. All of them inherently being children, it was everyone's favourite room.

Hank got out all the new gadgets to try and put them on one of the tables. Erik removed his splint and set it down next to the gadgets. He didn't need it anyway, he was fine, and if there was ever an acceptable moment to take it off, it was now.

"The glasses were amazing, Hank," Raven kept on talking. "They saved my life when I was trapped in a basement with no way out, or so I thought!"

"I'm happy to contribute, I wouldn't want you to get hurt," Hank said with a nervous smile. "Maybe this can save your life next time?" 

Hank picked up what looked like a semi-automatic Glock and handed it to Raven. She took it and fired a shot to the target on the opposite wall. The bullet flew through the air and split into five smaller bullets, which each split once more into five metal shards. They all made it to the target within 2 inches of each other. Raven whistled appreciatively and studied the weapon in her hand. 

"That's nice," she said, nodding.

"By popular demand, it also has a tranquilise mode," Hank explained, putting his finger on the switch on the side of the gun. 

Charles had been trying on some sort of helmet when Raven had fired the shot and he was now looking like a disoriented baby bird. Erik couldn't help the chuckle that broke out of him. Charles must not be accustomed to gun noises, which was dangerous for him. Every person working in a secret government facility should know how to defend themselves, in his opinion. 

Erik picked up the gun when Raven put it back on the table and he studied it, removing the clip to check the bullets inside. He put the clip back in, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

The bullet split in the same way as the last time, but Erik was too busy hurting to pay attention. Pain shot through his fist and he instinctively let go of the gun, which he swiftly caught with the left hand. He put the gun back on the table and looked at his right hand. There was nothing wrong with it from the outside, just like before he fired the shot. Inside, it was a different story. It felt the same way as the first time he'd broken it, which was no good sign at all.

"Oh, you  _ must  _ be stupid," Raven sighed, looking at Erik, completely unsurprised. She was used to him by now.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Erik said, his voice tight.

Raven scoffed. "You really shouldn't."

Erik shrugged and turned to leave, walking out the door of the testing room. He needed some ice, that always helped. If it was going to hurt like that every time he shot now, his job just got that much more difficult.

He was at the end of the corridor when he noticed fast footsteps behind him. He didn't have to wonder for long who they belonged to as Charles arrived at his level, red in the face and all but throwing Erik's splint at his face. 

"Do you have no regard for your personal safety?" he asked, with a voice Erik hadn't heard him use before. He was angry.

"What do you mean?" Erik asked, not slowing down his pace out of the lab. 

"People have broken their wrists shooting weapons, and you shoot  _ with a broken hand! _ " 

"My hand is fine," Erik sighed. He walked the stairs back up to the main area; a few minutes and he could put ice on his hand and get rid of the dull throbbing. 

"As evidenced by your pained face straight after shooting,"

Erik was starting to be really done with the shrink's righteous behaviour. "As evidenced by what? Are you going to talk to me about terrible pain again?" he smiled, but having something nasty in it, it probably shouldn't even be called a smile. 

He heard rather than saw Charles take a deep breath before grabbing Erik's arm and making him stop. "Feeling pain is not a competition, with yourself or others," he said. "Now go see Jean."

Erik looked at the shorter man in front of him, ready to fight for him to see a doctor. What was with him? "I don't need to. I'm fine."

"Shake my hand," Charles said, holding out his own hand. He was breathing rapidly, obviously trying to contain himself.

Erik looked at Charles's hand, knowing full well he couldn't shake it. It already hurt to move his fingers. What was five minutes seeing Dr Grey anyways? At least he'd get the ice he'd been craving. "Lead the way," he sighed. 

Charles opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He looked at Erik as if he'd just said magic existed. He snapped out of it quickly enough and walked to Jean's office that was on the same floor, cleverly not far from the main parts of the building. MI6 clearly held no illusions regarding their agents' dumbness. 

"Hello, Jean, dear, how are you?" Charles asked after being granted entry by the redheaded doctor. 

"Not too bad, thank you," Jean replied, giving Charles a hug hello. "What brings you- ah," she saw Erik behind Charles.

Erik shook his head. "'Ah' really?"

"I was wondering when I'd put the cast back on you," Jean said with a sigh. Only the slightest part of her was amused. "You do know your colleagues had a bet going on." 

"Aren't you going to ask what happened?" Erik asked, taking his usual spot, sitting on the exam table. The look Charles was giving him left room for no argument. 

"Do I want to know? Take off your shirt please," Jean said, giving Erik an ice pack to put on his hand while she put gloves on and took out the cast materials. "So, Charles, how is your practice? Did you finally get settled?"

Charles took longer than necessary to answer, his eyes on Erik who'd taken his shirt off. Erik would flatter himself to think it was because of his abs, but really, Charles was looking at what everybody usually stared at. He had deep burn marks going down his entire left arm and part of his shoulder and ribs. Being trapped in a house fire would do that to a person. There was a series of vertical lines going from his wrist to his elbow as well, that clearly had nothing to do with a natural element. Erik was sure Charles did  _ not _ want to know about that, it would scar his mind. 

"Oh yes, it's quite all right now. It just took some getting used to. It turns out I can't explain away why I'm only working there two days a week by saying I work at MI6," Charles said with a small laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Guy says he's given you a cover story?" Jean asked.

Charles nodded, keeping one eye on Erik. "And it's a good one too, people will believe that I'm helping at the hospital for the rest of the time, I've got a badge and everything."

"Don't tell me you've never seen a person cut to pieces before," Erik said, too sharp for what was needed. He had no desire to be looked at like a zoo animal. 

Really, there were other things to look at in this room. Medical equipment, first of all, cost probably more than that hospital Charles pretended to work at; there were all sorts of machines, and instruments, most of which he'd had the pleasure of using through his years of service. And behind him was the door that led to the X-Ray room and the OR, for the big time oopsies. He'd been there too when a bullet had gone through his gut; it had been deeply unpleasant. 

"I apologise," Charles said. "It was quite rude of me. Did you harm yourself?"

"Yes, I took a knife and drew really straight lines on my own arms," Erik replied, contempt lacing his words. 

He stared at his hand, and after a while, heard Charles's retreating footsteps.

Jean sighed. "What was that for?" she asked.

"I'm not an exhibit," Erik replied.

"Like all of us here, he's only trying to help. You'd know if you gave anyone a chance."

Erik didn't reply because she did have a point, but she couldn't know that.

When he went back to see Charles, they didn’t talk about the scars and everything went much better. They talked about a possible return to the field, and Erik promised he’d be careful with no more broken limbs, which was a big commitment to make.


	6. Chapter 6

_ 4 weeks later _

Erik was back in the field and it never felt so good. Two weeks in Argentina, with the sun, the beaches, and a runaway dictator. He had to find the man, monitor his moves and stop the exchange of sensitive intel before people got hurt. He was following the man there, while Raven followed the money trail in Switzerland, trying to give him any clues to pose as the buyer.

Everything went as it should. There wasn't even one small bump in the road or impromptu shooting. He'd done his fair share of fighting, and his hand had held up, thank god, but other than that, nothing exciting. Erik realised a day before leaving he'd been bored and was looking forward to going back to the base. Something was seriously wrong with him, he'd never been bored in the field before. 

Communicating daily about their progress, Raven took the opportunity to talk his ear off about how amazing the new toys were and how Hank had given her the new whatever that did whatever and was whatever. Erik hadn't listened to all of it and Raven's crush wasn't the sort of information his brain would keep anyway.

More importantly -and he never thought he'd say this- these were two weeks without seeing Charles. He'd grown used to seeing the hopeful man that seemed to be able to look into his head and find something good. It made no sense to miss him; Erik had spent what ended up being 8 weeks locked up underground talking about feelings with a relentless psychologist which meant he'd been so happy to take a break from that. Some part of him apparently didn't feel the same way. On the flight back, he kept imagining how Charles would smile at him like he was the proud owner of a puppy who got home unharmed. For some reason, this made him feel warm.

But of course, it was the evening in London when he got to The Hut. Jean was delighted she had no work to do whatsoever to patch him up. All he had were a few bruises, including one on his cheek, and that would go away on its own. Walking past Charles's office on the way to his room, Erik slipped his evaluation form under the door, laughing to himself as he imagined Charles's face seeing it in the morning. It would no doubt remind him of the first time they met. In the two weeks after he got his cast back, he had first apologised for snapping, and then they had talked like nothing happened. Charles had definitely slowly grown on him without Erik realising.

Erik took a shower when he made it to his room but decided to forgo shaving. Once the bruise would fade, he would, but for now, he'd just have to keep looking like a hobo. It was only 9 o'clock when he got out, after all, and he took the direction of the twins' bedroom. He hoped... well many things; that they were okay, that they still remembered him and that he wouldn't traumatise them with the current beaten up look. Perhaps he could only peek into the room to check they were there and then leave. 

There was a voice coming out of the twins' room and Erik's heart clenched uncomfortably. He soon realised whose voice it was when he was close enough to make out words. 

"Ok, one more, but then you're sleeping." Sitting on the edge of Wanda's bed, Charles was reading from a book in his hands. Both twins looked healthy and sleepy, tucked into their respective beds. Erik stopped and silently stood at the doorway, hidden from sight from everyone but Wanda who had her eyes closed anyway. " _ Chapter seven, the sorting hat. The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. 'The firs' years, Professor McGonagall' said Hagrid. 'Thank you Hagrid, I will take them from here.' _ "

The way Charles changed his voice for the different characters made Erik smile. Erik had never had an interest in reading Harry Potter but if Charles narrated it like that, he could easily be convinced. He stayed for the entire length of that chapter, turning away when Charles stood up and left the room. And now Erik was discovered. His lack of stealth in this particular situation was disturbing.

"Erik," Charles called, "I thought it was you."

"Hello, I was just wanting to check on the children," Erik said, looking at Charles. He looked about the same as when he left, which was reassuring. 

"They've been good, I've started reading Harry Potter to them,"

Erik nodded. "I've seen that. You have a natural talent."

"Why thank you. And you got a tan," Charles remarked with a smile. "It looks good on you."

Erik wasn't sure what to make of that statement, so he ended up with a half-surprised, half-smug expression. "That's because I obviously lied and spent the entire time in a resort."

Charles laughed and Erik couldn't help but smile in return.

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?" Charles asked. "I need to go now, someone will get grumpy if he doesn't get dinner soon."

"O...of course," Erik stuttered with a frown, surprised as he was by the new bit of information that Charles didn't live alone. He wasn't sure why that changed anything. It was evident someone as solar as Charles had already attracted 'the one'. But what was he doing in a secret spy agency at 9 o'clock on a Tuesday night if he had someone to go home to?

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

After a short night, Erik exhausted himself in the gym as per his post-mission ritual. He showered once he was too spent to continue and wandered to the kitchen for something to eat. There was what looked like a brownie sitting on the table with a note on the side. He picked it up to read the small message. 

_ Contains nuts. _ __   
_ Enjoy. x _ _   
_ __ Charles

Erik put the note back down and took a knife to cut three pieces. Hopefully bringing cake would make the twins forgive him for being gone so long? As he filled three plates with equal-sized pieces, he heard someone coming into the kitchen and taking a cup from the cupboard. 

"Do they not have food in Argentina?" Guy asked and Erik turned to give him a look.

"You're becoming funnier by the decade," Erik said. 

"I know," Guy gave a quick laugh and poured himself a cup of coffee. 

"It's for the children," Erik said with a shrug. "You haven't told us when you want us for the mission debrief."

"I had business outside, can we do tomorrow at 10?" Guy said in a way that was formed like a question but wasn't really one. Erik remembered before he got to know the man, how he responded to these questions with his actual opinion. He guessed it made his boss feel better to phrase his orders as questions. 

Erik nodded. "I'll tell Raven," he said, picking up his three plates. He balanced two on one arm and the third one in his second hand. 

"Oh, Erik," Guy called when Erik was almost out the door. "They're having a party Friday night, in case you want to make yourself scarce. I know I will."

"Thanks for the heads up," Erik said with a nod.

He'd fallen into the trap of attending one of the parties thrown by his colleagues two years ago and still hadn't recovered. Highly trained spies became teenagers that managed to crack into their parents' liquor cabinet. It was a lot of music, unspeakable dance moves, and stupid, stupid games. They were almost always Raven's idea. Granted they hadn't done that in a while, but Erik wasn't nostalgic enough yet (he never would) to subject himself to this atrocity. 

When he got to the twins' room, they were playing a cards game on the floor. They looked up when he entered and got up to run to him. One plate was almost sacrificed to the floor when Pietro launched himself into a hug. 

"Wow, hey there. I missed you too," Erik said, reaching from where he was to put the plates on the table. Then he engulfed both kids into a hug, relishing in the satisfaction that they were happy to see him. 

He'd insisted that they get one of the biggest rooms so they could fit two beds and an area with a table and a sofa so that they had somewhere other than a bed to go to. 

"I brought you some brownie," Erik said once they detached themselves from him. The three of them sat on the chairs and Wanda and Pietro both immediately started eating. They really did everything together. Pietro's piece was gone in a handful of seconds as if he possessed super eating speed. 

"Charles made it," Erik said before starting on his second bite. "Do you like it?"

Pietro nodded fervently while Wanda made her approval a little softer. The cake was indeed delicious, but Erik hadn't doubted that after everything Charles had cooked for the team. He wondered what it was the man couldn't do. He was also probably the type of person to catch a spider and release it outside instead of crushing it.

Wanda reached over and up to touch Erik's cheek, looking up at him with big, concerned eyes and pulling him out of his own thoughts. Even though he still hadn't shaved, the bruise was clearly visible as it went almost up to his eye. A side effect of being punched in the face. Erik smiled at the little girl in reassurance. "Don't worry. I'm ok. Someone was being mean, but it's over now."

Wanda was still frowning unhappily, and for the first time, he felt bad for being hurt. He'd never cared for Jean's recommendations or reproaches, he'd found Charles's remarks amusing, but this was where his brain drew the line. Hurting himself might not matter to him, but it mattered to someone he cared about; someone small and innocent who had already seen too many people being hurt. He could be more careful, however, in his line of work, there was no way he could come back without a single bruise. 

"I'll be careful, I promise," Erik said, deciding to change subjects to something more pleasant. "I hear Charles reads Harry Potter to you? Is it fun?"

Pietro was obviously way more enthusiastic about the cake than the book but Wanda's smile came back at the mention of their bedtime story.

"He's a good narrator," Erik confirmed.

Once all three plates were cleared, Erik stacked them up and put them at the end of the table. Pietro grabbed the cards from the floor and brought them to the table. Erik quickly picked up what game they were playing and played what felt like a billion games. He may or may not have let the children win; Wanda would do a sort of happy little wiggle when she won, which was utterly adorable, while Pietro exhaled pride, in a cute sort of way. 

It came to 5 o'clock and Erik realised he was terribly late for his meeting with Charles. He couldn't even say he was 'late' anymore, it was like he hadn't shown up at all. Saying goodbye to the children, he quickly made his way to Charles's office. Hopefully, the man was still there and hadn't left, disappointed at being stood up. When he knocked on the door and heard Charles's usual 'come in' response, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hi, sorry for being this late," he said once he was in the office and had closed the door. 

Charles was sitting at his desk with an open file in front of him and a pen in his hand. He looked up at Erik and smiled at him. "Erik, hi. Well, you're here now. Please take a seat."

Erik sat down on the armchair that had its back to the door. One look around the room taught him Charles had three new books stacked on his desk, waiting to be stored, and a chess set on top of the books on the middle shelf.

"I got your um... present," Charles said, taking the orange form on his desk and coming to sit on his usual armchair. He didn't comment on the fact that Erik was sitting where he should be for once. 

"Did you like it? I'm afraid you can't return it, I didn't keep the receipt," Erik said with a complacent smile. 

Charles chuckled and shook his head. "You obviously put a lot of thought into it. So what have you done today?"

"Aren't you going to ask about the mission?" Erik asked back.

Charles took a new piece of paper from his stack and wrote what Erik knew to be the date at the top of the page. He was used to the process by now and knew his file must be getting pretty thick with all the 'conversations' they'd had. "I am," Charles replied, "but you’re late and you seem content, and I wonder what brought that on."

"I worked out, then I took some of the brownies you made to the twins."

"Did they like it?" Charles asked with interest.

"Very much so," Erik nodded. "Almost made them forget to express their dislike for my beard."

"I was going to say, did they forbid shaving in Argentina?" Charles asked, obviously proud of his comment. 

The downside of sitting on the armchair opposite Charles instead of walking around or leaning against the desk, Erik noticed, was that  _ he was sitting on the armchair opposite Charles _ . He had very little options for things to look at other than Charles's face, or Charles's eyes. He could only notice how blue they were, and how they got slightly wider when he was being earnest, or how they seemed to sparkle and smile along with his mouth when he was being playful. 

"I forgot my razor when I left and figured, what the hell. It actually helps to cover the bruise as well; don't want you asking again if I'm hurting myself."

A pause followed Erik's reply, which unnerved him. He was usually the biggest fan of silence, but not when it was Charles saying nothing and staring at him as if he could see his soul, or lack thereof. 

"The mission was fine. It went easy, that was slightly boring," Erik continued.

"Do you like it when it's hard?" Charles asked after another moment. 

Erik couldn't help but snort. "This is my intimate life, Doctor. I'm sure you can find out for yourself," he said in what he hoped was a suggestive tone. What was he doing flirting with the man who had all power over his work life, aka his life? What was wrong with him? 

"I already know so," Charles said. Was Erik imagining the faint pink tint Charles's cheeks had taken for a moment? "What's on your mind, Erik?" Charles continued, putting the file in his hands on the table and leaning forward in his seat. Erik wasn't aware he was behaving any differently than usual.

"You have to be more specific," Erik replied. He looked away from Charles and his eyes fell on the chessboard on the shelf again. He used to beat everyone in those silly little tournaments, but he hadn't played in a while. "Is the chess set new?" he asked.

Charles leaned back to his original position and nodded. "I brought it here. I thought your logical mind would enjoy it and we could play a game sometime." 

"Some time is now then," Erik said, relieved to get out of this seat for a moment. He retrieved the chess set from the shelf and brought it back. 

Charles watched him with an intensity that made Erik slightly uncomfortable. "It's been a while since I've played."

"I'll go easy on you," Erik smirked.

"I don't think you'll go easy on anyone," Charles said. He pulled the small table he always kept next to him between the two armchairs and Erik put the chess set on it before sitting back down. 

"Then maybe you don't know me as well as you think," Erik said. "You can have white." 

They set up the pieces together and played in silence for half of the game. Erik was grateful for the reprieve as it allowed him to think. He had a decision to make; for so long, it had been him and his secret, but would it be such a bad thing to share it with someone trustworthy? The fact that he did trust Charles had been easily accepted by his brain, and the way Charles had bonded with the children had made any residual doubt vanish in Erik's mind. 

Before he could speak, Charles stood up and walked over to the cupboard behind his desk. "Would you like some tea?" he asked, taking the electric kettle in the cupboard and plugging it to the wall. 

"You do know we have a kitchen," Erik said, moving one of his pawns. "But yes, thank you."

"They teased me for making so much tea, so that way they don't know how many cups I drink in a day," Charles said with a laugh. 

When Charles came back, they carried on playing. Erik momentarily forgot what he'd wanted to say, but when he eventually remembered, he sighed. This was going to be unpleasant. 

After Charles took his rook, Erik spoke. "I lied to you, before," he said, moving his queen out of the way. 

"I know you did, but what about?" Charles asked. 

"I lied, when I said I didn't know why my parents were killed. There's a list."

Charles looked up from the chess game and into Erik's eyes. This temporarily distracted Erik. Charles waited a minute before asking. "What's on the list?"

"The fact that I don't know is the problem. They died for it and it's for nothing,"

"Why do you tell me this now? I am not, nor will I ever try to extort family secrets out of you," Charles said in earnest.

"I know. But no one else knows and there must be another angle to look at this thing." 

"What could be on the list?"

Erik held his hands up in a puzzled gesture. "Anything, nuclear codes, list of people he's had killed, list of his associates. Whatever it is, he wants it badly."

"I always found him strange when I saw him on the news. The fact that an arms manufacturer is running for president is really typically American," Charles said, picking up his cup of tea to take a sip. It had the logo of Oxford University. Erik snorted; of course, someone who attended the famous university would flex about it. 

"You can't tell anyone anything. If word gets back to him that you know something, anything, about the list he'll have you killed. Or worse. He has eyes everywhere."

"I appreciate your trust and this will strictly stay between us," Charles said in a way that sounded extremely solemn. From anyone else, it would have been a sign of intense sarcasm, but Erik knew now Charles was only being genuine. "You said your parents were killed for that list, how do you know that?"

"I didn't remember it but he told me so. I was supposed to know about it, I was supposed to know where to find it. He was sure of it."

"What did he do?" Charles asked. 

Charles seemed to have forgotten there was a game going on and Erik didn't know whether to be glad he gave the matter his whole attention or anxious over the lack of distraction. Why was Charles even interested in him, in helping him? He couldn't understand why the man would even care.

"You're all rainbows and brownies, you don't have the stomach for this," Erik said, realising too late this might not have been the best answer. He sighed, at the same time as Charles did. 

"I told you, I've seen my fair share," Charles simply replied. 

Erik pulled his sleeve up to just under the elbow. "Remember this?" he said, pulling the sleeve back down as soon as he knew Charles had looked. He hated those scars and everything they represented, but if there was anything he disliked more than someone seeing them, it was talking about them. At least that way he got his point across. "That's what's left of the visible part."

"He must be afraid of whatever is on that list. I assume you have a plan," Charles said as he resumed playing with a bold move, putting his king in danger to take Erik's remaining knight. Charles had had no reaction at the discovery of where the marks he'd seen on Erik's arms came from; Erik wondered if he was good at hiding his disgust or... no, this had to be it. 

"I'm going to get that list, one way or another. Then I'm going to find Shaw and I'm going to kill him."

"There has to be another way for you to find peace."

Erik watched Charles without blinking. "Peace was never an option."


	7. Chapter 7

The break room was a room which surprisingly few people visited. They did gather, they did enjoy a break but it was usually in the kitchen. Some would say it was because they were all a bunch of lazy slugs who didn't want to walk further than necessary, others argued that it was because of the presence of food in the kitchen. The break room only ended up being used for parties because of its considerable size and the existence of a pool table. Other than these attributes, it was decorated in the same manner as the rest of the base, meaning no decoration at all. A shelf with books, some brown carpets, a table with chairs and a few sofas thrown in the mix completed the look. 

To say the party had already started was an understatement. Music was blasting from speakers usually used for important announcements, Raven was dancing on top of the table, and Sean had improvised himself as a bartender. Numerous bottles of alcohol were laid out on the end of the table Raven wasn't allowed to trip on, and Sean was shaking a cocktail in a shaker along with the rhythm of the music. This was what Erik had feared. They had all lost their minds. 

But then he noticed Charles over at the pool table, playing against Alex. Charles was bent over the pool table, ready to make his move, which gave Erik a perfect view of his... whatever. He shook his head and walked over, passing Hank who had his lovesick eyes glued to Raven. 

"Where's my cocktail? Are you gone to get the coconut from the tree?" Alex shouted at Sean who barely heard him over the music.

Sean's drink was very, very well shaken now that he'd spent the three and a half minutes of Shakira's  _ Hips Don't Lie _ shaking it. He grabbed a glass and emptied the very pink content of the shaker into it. "Shut up. Here's your Cosmopolitan," he said with a large, pleased smile, putting the glass on the edge of the pool table, which was the worst idea but absolutely not his problem. 

"I didn't order that," Alex said, glaring at Sean.

"Well, that's what you're getting," Sean laughed as he got back to his makeshift bar. 

"Do you want some orange juice or a curly straw with that?" Erik asked and Alex turned his glare to Erik. 

"You know where you can stick your curly straw. What are you even doing here?" Alex asked. "Apart from ruining my life as always."

"I asked him to come," Charles said with a smile.

"You as- man, if we'd known it was that easy."

"I said I'd let him try to get even at chess if he made an appearance," Charles's smile turned smug. 

"It was unfair, I was distracted," Erik said. Turns out telling your big life secret took a lot of brainpower that you then can't apply to chess strategy.

"Sore loser," Alex said, pretending to hide it in a cough.

"It's Darwin!" Sean shouted, but as this was right between songs, it damaged everyone's eardrums. Sean had a sort of voice that quickly could turn into a headache-inducing shrill when he wanted to or was too drunk to pay attention.

Said Darwin had entered the room bearing gifts, namely one bottle of whiskey in each hand. "Hey all, I brought friends."

Raven gracefully jumped off the table and threw herself in Darwin's arms. They both momentarily disappeared under her voluminous blond hair. "You took your sweet time," she said.

"Excuse me for needing a shower. I've been undercover for six weeks, I feel dirty," Darwin hugged Raven back before putting the bottles on the table with the others.

"Good to see you again," Erik said, once he'd gone over to the other side of the room. 

Darwin had been working to take down a whole branch of sex trafficking operations. His job was to climb up the ranks and tear it down from the inside. He was the best in their department at undercover jobs. Erik would lose his temper, Sean would get made since he was such a terrible liar, and Raven was too into the immediate rescuing of people and sometimes, like Erik, she missed the bigger picture. Moira always did a good job undercover too, but it was like Darwin grew extra capacities depending on the role he had to assume. He was terribly impressive, and Erik wouldn't say that of a lot of people.

"Ok people, let's play," Raven said excitedly. "Everyone, go sit in a circle, it's Never Have I Ever time. Sean, you make the shots."

Charles looked at Erik. "You can go if you want, I was half-joking when I blackmailed you into coming."

Erik shook his head, surprising himself by not wanting to leave that badly. "What, are you afraid I'll see  _ your _ secrets for once?"

Charles threw his hands up. "I'm an open book."

The circle was already made so they sat opposite each other, Erik between Raven and Moira, and Charles between Hank and Sean. Erik feared the worst from this game, but maybe he would learn a little bit more about Charles. Something about Charles made Erik think he didn't hold his alcohol well, which, alone, would make this whole thing worth it. Everyone received a shot glass and several bottles were put in the middle of the circle. 

"I'll start," Raven said, humming as she thought. "Never have I ever... ridden an animal."

"You remember I took horseback riding lessons as a child," Charles complained.

Raven threw him a mischievous smile. "Drink. Those are the rules."

With a sigh, Charles drank, at the same time as Alex did. 

"A cow, she was pissed," Alex laughed. He grabbed the bottle of vodka in front of him and refilled his glass, spilling a good chunk of it on the carpet. 

It was Sean's turn next and he thought for a while until Raven elbowed him in the ribs. "Wow," he groaned. "Fine. Since you don't leave my creative genius any time to think... Never have I ever... proposed."

Raven snorted and all of them looked at each other. No one drank until Erik gave a sigh and emptied his glass, the liquid burning the back of his throat. He received more than one incredulous stare after that. 

"Who?"

"When?"

"How?"

"And?"

All questions were shot at the same time and Erik simply rolled his eyes. He'd rather be burned alive again than tell the sob story of his botched attempt at a relationship. Magda's face appeared in his mind and Charles was looking at him with compassion; now he wished the rule was to drink 10 shots. 

"At least I got this far, can't say the same for you losers. This isn't 'never have I ever and if I have I must explain everything'," he said grumpily, throwing an icy glare around, daring anyone to insist.

"Never have I ever... dated on the job," Charles said. It might be a given for him, but it certainly wasn't for the others.

"Are we talking dating or sex?" Alex asked.

Charles shrugged. "Both." 

Out of everyone, Raven, Erik, Alex and Darwin drank. 

"But Charles," Raven said innocently but with a cat-like grin. "What are you doing with Erik every night?"

Charles's cheeks flushed pink and Erik glared at Raven. "Why is Hank not drinking?" Erik asked. "Or do you mean that you cheated on him."

"We-we're not-" Hank stammered, blushing down to his neck.

Raven returned Erik's glare and for a handful of seconds, the situation turned dangerous. Erik regretted nothing though, she had more than deserved it. What was she doing attacking Charles and his relationship when all they did was watch over orphan children?

"Your turn Hank, give us a good one," Sean said, trying to get them back on track.

Hank cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his nose, trying to regain some composure. "Never have I ever... got stitches."

Every agent in the room snorted and six shots were drunk. When he got past the fire in his throat, Erik noticed that Charles's glass was empty. Now that was interesting. 

"No shit," Alex groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when some drops missed his lips. 

"So Charles, what's the story?" Moira asked, having also seen Charles drink. 

"Not a very interesting one. I fell on a knife," Charles replied with a shrug. He put his left hand on his right collarbone. "It was right under there."

Erik surprised himself thinking he didn't believe that. It was a plausible story, although being a bullshitter himself, Erik knew a lie when he saw one. 

"Petition for Erik to drink 2!" Alex said so loudly even Sean jerked away. If he had been drunk before, now was worse. "He's like Frankenstein's monster."

Erik was about to reply but Darwin beat him to it. "That's not a nice thing to say," he said seriously before bursting into a laugh, "... for the monster."

Erik threw his glass at Darwin who dove to his left to avoid it. The glass came crashing against the wall, shattering into a thousand pieces. "Next one goes right in your face," he said in a dangerously calm voice.

"Try me, Frankie," Darwin laughed, standing up. 

Erik gave a dramatic sigh before getting to his feet. 

"Bet you Darwin makes it," Sean shrieked excitedly. 

Raven scoffed. "Please, have you seen Erik fight at all? He's only second to me."

Erik was happy for his talents to be recognised, and then not. It was hard to compare Raven's and his style; while Raven was an excellent fighter, she tried to avoid it. Her thing was camouflage. She was an expert at disguising herself and blending into a crowd. Erik's thing was more, well, hitting and breaking. 

He couldn't reply to the obvious lie that she was better than him, too busy as he was throwing the first punch towards Darwin's jaw. Darwin stepped back in the circle surrounding them, said circle quickly becoming much larger. With one of his well-used feints, Erik hit Darwin between the ribs. Darwin reciprocated by grabbing his hand and throwing him off-balance. From there, it was more or less an equal fight. While all agents were impressive combatants, Erik and Darwin were the logical fighters. Darwin had this method of analysing his opponent's patterns and adapting to them, which unnerved Erik and pushed him to be more unpredictable.

"If one of you is hurt, you're both fired," a voice interrupted the fight and Erik's surely violent kick to Darwin's tibia. Guy was standing by the door and there was no telling how much of that he'd seen.

"We were just playing," Darwin said, rather lamely.

"I'll know," Guy said before leaving, and Erik didn't miss the small amused smile at the corner of his boss's lips. He was as serious about his threat as the fight was, which was not at all.

"Williaaaaaaam!" Sean shouted, and the whole group covered their ears. "Don't spoil the fun!"

"This isn't over," Darwin said, breathless as he sat back down. 

The smile Erik directed at him was about 20% more arrogant than usual. "But it is, you were a few seconds away from crumbling down on the floor whining to your mother."

"Whatever," Darwin mumbled, grabbing a bottle of vodka that had been pushed out of the way and was now behind him, and took a long gulp.

Erik found this was a good idea and did the same with the nearby whiskey. Throwing a glance around the room, he noticed Charles was red in the face and the way he looked at Erik was peculiar. Had he missed something while he was busy giving Darwin a beating? 

"No one wants your germs, guys," Moira complained to which Alex and Sean heartily agreed. "It's my turn anyway... Never have I ever... oh, this one's for Alex, bragged about something I haven't done."

"How dare you!" Alex cried out, even as he lifted the glass to his lips. Erik snorted.

Erik had no glass anymore, having thrown his at the wall, so he grabbed his whiskey bottle again and took a gulp. This ended up being a lot more alcohol than a shot glass but as his mind was quickly becoming foggy, he lost the ability to reason like that. A sip was a sip and as whiskeys went, this one wasn't bad at all.

"Never have I ever... played with one of the toys while drunk," Erik said. If the game was to get Alex to drink the most, then he was in. 

Unsurprisingly, Alex drained his glass. He was starting to be red in the face and to not even be able to sit straight. Everyone laughed when Hank of all people drank. For all his talk of how sacred the toys were, he wasn't any better than the rest of them. 

"Well, well, well..." Erik was still laughing, imagining Hank drunk in his lab and shooting guns at imaginary enemies. It didn't match and therefore was hilarious. 

Hank was mumbling incoherent sentences when Erik asked him to explain. "It was six months ago. It just happened," he said, finally intelligibly. "I wasn't that drunk," he defended. It didn't do anything to stop other people's laughter.

"I have a better idea. Truth or dare!" Raven said, clapping her hands excitedly like a 4-year-old. Everyone groaned but most were too inebriated to refuse a challenge. "Charles! Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Charles said. 

"What picture or video of you do you wish didn't exist? And you have to show us, of course."

Charles made a face but then he laughed, most probably thinking about the picture in question. "Romeo sitting on my face."

"Gross," Sean complained. "Also shitty truth because none of us are allowed phones."

"Sean, your turn," Raven declared.

"Dare, obviously."

"We can make him a drink," Erik suggested with an evil grin. 

Raven jumped to her feet -and almost fell back down- and the two of them went through the contents of the fridge, taking out various items. Erik grabbed a glass and poured some whiskey in it, with water, a spoonful of mustard and ketchup, Raven liked the idea of some vinegar, and grated cheese so they went with it.

They both sat back down and Raven put the glass with the oddly-coloured liquid in Sean's hand. 

"Drink up," she told him.

Sean looked at the glass for a handful of seconds, visibly regretting his decision before he drank it in one big gulp. His stomach heaved and he almost threw up, but thankfully didn't. "Whose sick mind decided that grated cheese was okay?" he groaned and Raven laughed. "I'll get my revenge."

"Erik!" Raven called cheerily.

"Truth," Erik said without hesitating. After the pancake incident, he wasn't going to risk it. 

Darwin was opening his mouth to throw in a question but Hank was faster. "Is it true that you and Raven slept together?" he asked. The few shots he'd drunk had clearly uninhibited him, which Erik found amusing.

"Untrue," Erik replied.

"No!" Raven said, defensively. 

"Alex," Darwin said.

Alex grinned widely. "Dare," he announced.

"Serenade the person to your left," Darwin said, looking at Moira. 

" _She's my cherry pie,"_ Alex sang or rather shouted as he crawled out of his spot and in front of Moira. " _Cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise. Tastes so good, makes a grown man cry. Sweet Cherry Pie, yeah._ "

Alex kept singing and straightened up, abruptly taking his t-shirt off and swirling it over his head. Moira was mildly embarrassed and laughed at it. When Alex let his t-shirt go, it landed over Darwin's face. He took off his trousers and when he tried to do the same with his underwear, Darwin stopped him.

"First of all," he said. "I said serenade, not striptease." Alex gave him the finger and crawled back to his spot. "Second of all, Moira, what's your choice?"

Moire cleared her throat. "Dare."

"Drink while standing on your hands," Sean said.

"Is that really a challenge?" Moira gave him a cocky smile. "None of you better put grated cheese in that drink."

Raven giggled and made the drink, entirely cheese-free. Moira easily got upside down on her hands and Charles seemed surprised by it. Erik wanted to roll his eyes - any one of them could do that, especially since he'd got rid of the cast. Raven took the task of pouring the liquid in Moira's mouth and it had the added difficulty that she couldn't stop laughing. About half of it missed Moira's mouth entirely and trickled down her face, but the rest she successfully drank.

When she was back on her feet, she took the glass from Raven's hand and finished the last drops. Raven tried to gather the liquid that had dripped on Moira's face and dragged a finger from Moira's temple to the corner of her lips before sucking said finger into her mouth. Lord help Erik if he was ever as drunk as Raven was now.

"Darwin," Erik said.

"Truth, I'm not insane," Darwin replied. 

"What is the most embarrassing communication you had during a mission?"

Darwin laughed for about half a minute, seemingly remembering said communication. "Someone in this room told me, 'I found some kind of big grapes, but longer and drier.' So I replied 'You mean dates.'" Darwin's laughter doubled down and he was completely shaking with it.

Moira was back sitting in her spot and she asked, "who was it?"

"I shall not name. Come on, Charles," Darwin said.

"I'll stick to truth or who knows what will happen to me."

"Charles, do you sleep in pyjamas or...?" Sean asked. "Also describe them."

"Did you seriously waste a truth on this?" Alex yelled at him.

"Hank wasted one on Raven's sex life," Sean countered. 

Erik wholeheartedly agreed with Alex, until Charles laughed and made him forget what he was even thinking about. 

"Depends on the season. I try to wear something but Romeo keeps sticking to me under the covers and he runs hot." 

Darwin wolf-whistled which earned him a confused look from Charles. Erik took another sip and then said goodbye. He'd spent more than enough time being social today. He walked out the door just as someone mentioned pouring iced water over someone's head. He'd truly gone out in time. 


	8. Chapter 8

Erik was skilled in intelligence gathering and camouflage, trained in close combat, short and long-range shooting, spoke four languages fluently and could get by in six, but he'd be damned if he said he knew what to do when someone was ill; especially when that someone was a child. 

Wanda and Pietro had woken up with a fever and when Erik came to see them as he did every morning, he found them in a much different state than usual. They were both shivering and moaning with every movement. It was a strange sensation, seeing these fragile mini human beings in dire need of help, and not knowing how to make it better. They got sick about an hour or two after Erik had arrived and he thought for a second 'they really do everything together' before worry took back over. 

On Erik's insistent request, Jean dropped by and determined the twins had a mean case of the flu and they needed rest. Erik hated that answer; he wanted something proactive he could do, not just watch them suffer until they didn’t anymore. 

"If you cared half as much about your health as you do about theirs, my stock of bandages would still be intact," Jean said as she was leaving again. Seeing Erik looked anxious, she added, "they'll be ok, don't forget to keep them hydrated and make sure they get their medicine to keep the temperature down. I can come back tonight if it makes you feel better."

Erik nodded. "Thank you," he said, clutching the pack of pills in his hand like a lifeline. 

He stood there for a few minutes after Jean left with the medicine in his hand and a prominent question in his mind. What to do? Should he sing them songs? Read them stories? Bring them food? But what kind? More water? Water was always a good idea. 

So Erik got a pitcher of water and more or less patiently coaxed the feverish twins into taking their pills. Then they closed their eyes again, too tired or too in need of sleep. Erik made sure to make no movements that could disturb them. In the two hours that he'd been there already, it was the first time they were anything close to falling asleep.

That's when he heard a soft, almost imperceptible knock. Charles was standing on the other side of the door when he opened it, and Erik's shoulders visibly relaxed. Charles was the ideal person for this. 

"Jean told me Wanda and Pietro had the flu and I thought you might need a little help?" Charles asked with a gentle smile.

Erik stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. "Why would you think that, you know I have great babysitting experience," he said with a snort. "I'm the children whisperer."

"I'm sure you don't mean it as creepy as it sounds," Charles said with a laugh. 

Erik didn't bother with a reply to that. "I think they're finally sleeping," he sighed. 

"Are you all right, Erik?" Charles asked, putting a hand on Erik's arm and it was more comforting than it had any right to be.

"I'm not sure what to do."

"I always used to take care of Raven when she was sick. Between the two of us, we'll be ok," Charles said with a confident nod. 

"What about your parents?" Erik asked.

"You know what happened to my father, the parliament and all. My mother remarried, but neither she nor her husband were competent adults," Charles whispered as he walked in the room. Erik followed him and closed the door behind them. "It's important to keep them as hydrated as possible."

Charles took over from there and Erik went to the kitchen to cut some melon for the twins. Anything easily digestible and with high water content. Wanda woke up first about an hour later and her head was feeling a little better. 

Erik helped Wanda to sit up and held a glass of fresh water up to her lips.

Wanda groaned and kept her eyes closed.

"You have to drink," Erik said, not taking the glass away.

"You will feel better, sweetheart, I promise," Charles added, in a more convincing way. 

Wanda eventually drank the whole glass and laid her head on the pillow once more. Erik sat on the floor between their beds to be able to observe them. Pietro didn't wake up at all during this time, which Erik started worrying about. He wasn't usually a worrier; this was a new, unpleasant feeling. His eyes kept going from one child to the other, trying to find signs that something was wrong, and his head was starting to spin. 

"Have you had anything to eat today? You look unsteady," Charles remarked, sitting on a chair with a book. Erik had refused any of his attempts at conversation until Charles stopped asking and sat in the corner.

Erik shrugged. "I'm fine."

He heard Charles stand up and walk towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "They'll be ok for a few minutes while we get something to eat. Come on."

Erik reluctantly left the room and followed Charles, realising as he walked that he was indeed weak. The kitchen was empty apart from Sean devouring a sandwich on his way out. He gave them a wave and disappeared around the corner. Erik sat down on a chair at the table and ran a hand through his hair. 

"I didn't think you'd be here," Charles said, getting eggs out of the fridge to make the omelette Erik agreed to eat. "You were meant to go on a mission, weren't you?"

"I was, but when I saw the twins were sick this morning, I couldn't go. Guy is out so I directly asked Moira if she could cover the mission for me."

"That's very nice of her," Charles nodded. Erik did his best not to react, jealousy was a stupid thing to be feeling.

Erik didn't speak much more while Charles made them an omelette and later when they ate it. 

Charles put his hand on top of Erik's, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Every parent is going to worry about their child, it's completely normal," he said as if reading Erik's mind. 

"I'm not a parent," Erik replied. 

Charles chuckled. "Oh Erik, everyone can see it. It's a good thing. You found each other, and that's a great thing." 

Erik sighed. Was he a parent? He hated seeing the lively twins so down and hurting. He'd surprised himself caring more and more about them since they'd arrived, more collateral damage from Shaw's clawing to power. Seeing them smile and laugh had become the goal of his days. 

Them, and Charles. Erik had realised his teeny tiny and probably very unhealthy crush on the psychologist while he was away on his last mission. He'd missed seeing Charles's face, talking to him. For some strange reason, Charles was able to bear his presence and the more he knew about Erik didn't stagger him. When he'd seen him reading Harry Potter to the twins for the first time, Erik had had a strange sense of family, which hadn't left him in all the nights they had repeated the action. But they weren't a family. How could he forget about the explicit details Charles had spilt on his relationship with Romeo during the party?

Erik shook those thoughts out of his head. "I suppose. But how does that help them right now?"

"You being there helps them. One should never underestimate the power of a friendly face by your side," Charles said. 

So Erik stayed by the twins' side all day. Charles made a joke about not being able to cancel work like Erik had before leaving. He came back in the evening after he'd finished work, and Erik had already given the twins some soup. They seemed a little better and demanded they continue Harry Potter. Wanda was asleep after the second paragraph but Pietro fought sleep until almost the end of the chapter. 

Erik decided he'd stay in the twins' room for the night to make sure they were ok, and Charles insisted to stay as well.

"Isn't Romeo waiting for you?" he asked.

Charles looked at Erik as if he'd stayed something exceptionally surprising. "He always is, but he'll be fine for one night. And I've called my neighbour, he'll take care of him."

Erik almost choked on his own breath but decided it was in his best interest not to comment any further. This was Charles's private life and he wasn't going to meddle in it. They got blankets and pillows to make the floor a little more comfortable and that was it. It was strange, lying in the dark next to Charles. A few months ago, he would have never considered it. Not only because of his nightmares but at first, he also couldn't stand the fact that Charles knew him. It was an advantage now. If he woke up hitting the mattress with all his limbs, well, first of all, it would hurt more than usual as his mattress was two stacked blankets, and second of all, he wouldn't be judged for it. 

Being anxious over the twins' health all day had exhausted Erik and he easily fell asleep. He was awakened a few hours later by Wanda who needed water, and Charles was already on his feet. 

"I should go," Erik said, even as he tried to stifle a yawn. 

"I can get them a pitcher of water. It will only take two minutes, I don't mind."

It was a testament to how sleepy Erik was that he didn't argue more. He just let Charles go and kept Wanda company instead. She was burning hot again. He checked the time, it was 2:37 in the morning, and at 2:45, Charles wasn't back. There was no need to worry, he could've got lost, or met someone and talked - this was Charles, after all, the biggest social butterfly Erik had ever seen. But who was in the corridors in the middle of the night? Now that Erik was paying attention, he could hear what sounded to him like whispers.

This was too long for a glass of water. And yes, he was probably paranoid and Charles was fine, but if he wasn't, then he'd be glad he didn't go back to sleep.

"I'll be back soon, don't worry," he whispered to Wanda, stroking her hair until her eyelids dropped again. 

Erik glanced at the still asleep Pietro and left the room, closing the door behind him. Reaching the kitchen was easy as it was so close, but what he saw there made Erik's heart clench. Charles was there, yes, but on the floor, unconscious. Erik rushed to his side and searched for a pulse, breathing out a sigh of relief when he found one. He considered for a second the possibility of Charles fainting of his own accord, but only then noticed water on the wall and glass on the floor. Charles would have fought someone and thrown his glass to the person, missing and hitting the wall. 

Erik grabbed a knife and slid it at his belt before he picked up Charles in his arms. If the base was hostile, the priority was to get Charles to safety, then Erik could gut the person who'd hurt him. Was the mole finally manifesting themselves? For a while now, Erik had the sneaking suspicion that someone on the base was giving out confidential information. It wasn't the right moment to think about whys and hows but rather getting rid of the threat. In the twins' room, Erik put Charles down on the blankets and left, locking the door behind him. He considered breaking the handle, but in case Charles and the twins needed out, this could turn out more dangerous than helpful.

He hadn't taken two steps from the door before he saw the first man. Conveniently dressed in black in the dark of the night, it was harder to make up their features, their movements and their weapons. Erik didn't hesitate and threw his knife, which hit the stunned man in the neck. Erik immediately walked to him to see who he was dealing with. There was no obvious sign he was affiliated with another organisation. In fact, there was no recognisable sign at all. The only thing on his body was a handgun, which Erik grabbed for himself. He also took the knife back from the man's neck and wiped it against his shirt. 

Erik continued walking and around the corner, he stopped, hearing footsteps heading his way. He pressed himself against the wall and when a figure came into sight, he didn't hesitate to punch it before pulling the gun he'd grabbed on his previous opponent. What happened next wasn't what he'd expected. 

"What the hell!" Hank exclaimed, holding a hand up to his nose.

"What are you doing here?" Erik asked, not lowering his weapon. There was no reason for Hank, MI6's own Quartermaster to wander in the base at night, especially this far from his lab and quarters.

"I saw unwanteds on the security feed."

"And you thought, what, that you were going to come in and help them? Make their jobs easier?" Erik asked. The man in front of him was either stupid or ill-intentioned, but he'd have to figure out which one it was.

"Of course not!" Hank replied vividly. "I wanted to get to Raven," he eventually admitted.

"Why?" Erik wondered. "Do you know something I don't?"

"How are you this paranoid," Hank sighed in frustration.

"Considering this very  _ secret _ base has been breached, I'd say this is the least paranoid I've ever been," Erik replied with a scoff. 

Hank touched around his nose with a wince. It didn't look broken, at least. "I thought I'd make sure Raven was all right," he said.

"She's strong enough to take care of herself," Erik said, looking over his shoulder when he heard a noise. "What she needs right now is for me to trigger the alarm."

The alarm should have been triggered when the spies, assassins or whatever they were had broken in, but for some reason, it hadn't. The fact that there hadn't been a single sound was worrying: the alarm was extra sensitive and had been triggered on accident quite a few times, most notably by Erik himself and Alex. You only got two tries at the voice-recognition passphrases, which changed every week and the fingerprint reader, which didn't change, because, well, fingerprints. Nevermind if it was an accident, a drill or the real thing, whenever the alarm sounded, all present agents met by Guy's office, and all other personnel locked themselves in a safe room.

There were manual triggers throughout the base as well, for cases like these, and Erik was close enough to one of them now that it was worth a shot. 

"Follow me, and don't make a sound," Erik said and Hank decided to nod and not argue. 

Getting to the entrance was surprisingly easy and Erik saw the door still open and the person guarding it with a bullet in the head. The alarm button was there on the wall, a typical red button that screamed danger but that everyone wanted to push once to see its effect. Erik knew its effect, and the alarm sounded louder than he remembered.

"Alert. Breach in the base. Alert. Breach in the base," the robotic voice repeated again and again over the insistent noise.

"Why is it so loud?" Hank asked, resisting the urge to put his hands over his ears. 

"Don't tell me you've never had this drill before," Erik said, starting to walk again in the direction to Guy's office. "Ok, to the meeting point."

"Of course I've had the drill, but it's not as bad in the lab. Where are we going?"

"We have a meeting point. Raven will be there," Erik said.

They walked in silence in the corridor, Erik taking a second to observe a security camera that had been destroyed. It was all it took for Hank to take the lead and turn around the corner. Erik ran towards him and launched himself forward to push Hank on the floor. While he did that, he saw a bullet flying over their heads, fired by another one of the nameless attackers.

Erik immediately got back on his feet and took advantage of the man's surprise to shoot a bullet of his own, which hit home. Why had he been surprised to see Erik? That didn't make sense. He was bound to encounter resistance when breaking into a spy base. Erik threw this on the pile of questions to ponder later. For now, he helped Hank up.

"You don't just turn around corners like that when you don't know what's on the other side," Erik said. "Don't they give you any training?" 

"As a matter of fact, they don't," Hank replied. "I've always thought they should, though. You guys are not the only ones in danger around here."

Erik sighed. "Watch yourself. Those guys are not here to play."

As he walked to the man he'd just shot and picked up his gun, another question popped into Erik's mind, another one for the later pile: why did he look slightly familiar?

From there, they didn't encounter anyone else until they were in front of Guy's office. Of course, Erik remembered, the boss was away. They wouldn't be able to take cover inside and think this through.

The first one to join them was Sean, who arrived in his pyjamas, with the worst case of bed hair, which contrasted with the handgun he was carrying. 

"Who forgot the password?" he asked, glancing curiously at Hank. 

"It's not a drill," Erik said, which finished to wake Sean up. "The base has been broken in."

"Shit," was Sean's reply.

Moira, Raven and Alex arrived in a group with a few other agents, and Erik summed up the situation one more time. Hank immediately perked up upon seeing Raven, but she didn't. Erik could relate, he would have been mad seeing Charles putting his life in danger the way Hank had. Charles had been hurt, he reminded himself, but he'd only unknowingly walked into danger.

They devised a plan of action and split into groups of two, each with a walkie talkie for updates. The plan was to search the whole base and neutralise any and all assailants, shooting to wound instead of kill - unlike what Erik had done so far - so that they could ask questions later. 

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

At long last, Erik got back to Wanda and Pietro's room. He was spent from a few hours of sleeping on the floor followed by defending the base against an outside attack. He unlocked the door and walked inside, seeing with relief that everyone was safe. Nobody had even moved since he'd been gone, which was good for the twins but not as good in the case of Charles. Had he woken up already and gone to sleep? Or was he still unconscious from being hit in the head? 

Erik sat on the floor next to him and set out to observe his head injury. He could only make out a bump. Jean had said she'd arrive soon when he'd called her, he just had to stay calm. He ran a hand through Charles's hair, the part of his head that was uninjured, and surprised himself thinking his hair was softer than he'd imagined. So he continued, leaning his own head against Wanda's bed frame for a bit of a rest.

When Jean came, she didn't comment. 

By morning, the twins were feeling a little better, completely oblivious to what had happened. Erik was grateful for that - they didn't need another traumatic experience. They were exhausted though and went back to sleep after a light breakfast. This was Erik's cue to get into action. They had taken a prisoner during the night, and he longed to make him talk. The questions he'd piled on in a corner during the night increasingly demanded attention, and this man was the only one who could satisfy them. 

But Charles was in the infirmary and could wake up at any point. He wanted to be there for him in a way he didn't really understand. His time was better spent getting answers, yet his feet were leading him to the infirmary. Charles was hooked up to a machine that gave a regular beep, and he slept, just like when Erik had handed him over to Jean. The doctor followed Erik into the room.

"He has a concussion, but he's lucky, considering," Jean told him as they both looked at Charles's sleeping form. 

"I suppose he is," Erik said absent-mindedly. 

"Do you know anything else about the attack?" Jean asked. She was as concerned as anyone about their security, and of course, would not be the first to know.

"Haven't interrogated the one we managed to keep in a cell yet."

"How uncharacteristic of you," Jean said with a little smile.

Erik huffed and Jean left. He walked out a minute after her and ran into Raven. 

"He's not awake," he said.

"I know. I was looking for you," Raven replied, already walking away so Erik had no choice but to follow her. "Guy called a meeting now."

Erik sighed. His answers were going to have to wait... again. Yes, they needed debriefing, but if he'd been able to get information out of their prisoner first, this meeting would have actually been useful. Now it was going to be a waste of valuable time. 

Guy's office was already full of the department's agents when they reached it. Guy stood in front of the crowd, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as if getting ready for a fight. His eyes were scanning the group, and he seemed to find what he was looking for when his eyes met Erik's. 

"You all know why you're here. Last night, an unknown group breached this base, killing one and injuring several. I don't have to tell you that this should  _ not _ happen. Although there have no claims yet, they may still come. No one is leaving this base until I have some answers, is that clear?" he stared at each and every one of them in the room until they were all nodding. 

"I want to know everything," he continued. "Why, how, when, with what agenda, on whose orders, what they hold dearest in this life, what their grandmothers had for breakfast. Erik, I'm assuming you got some answers?"

"Not yet," Erik replied. "I was on my way."

"You're getting soft, champion," Alex laughed. 

"Call me champion one more time," Erik said, in a threatening tone that usually worked wonders.

"That's enough. Dismissed," Guy said and the group disbanded. Erik was already by the door when Guy called him back. "Erik, a word."

As Alex was walking past Erik, he whispered, "See you,  _ champion _ ."

Guy walked to the door to close it after the last person was out and headed to the dungeon, which piqued Erik's curiosity. Was he being assigned a new mission without being warned beforehand, and just after Guy had said no one was leaving the base? That seemed unlikely, but they never went into that room for anything else. Nothing else required that extra level of security.

Erik followed and took a seat at the table. "Is there something you know about last night that we don't?" he asked. 

"What I'm going to tell you does not leave this room," Guy started, his face as serious as it had ever been. "You're the only one I can trust with this."

Erik sat up straighter in his chair. This wasn't a regular mission. "Of course."

Guy finally took a seat opposite Erik and looked at him gravely. "You have noticed the alarm wasn't triggered upon intrusion. Good on you to have triggered it manually, by the way. Everyone always complains about the drills, but this is what they're for," he added with a little satisfied smile. 

He was right, they always did complain and he was also right, every single drill was useful and the fact that they'd been prepared may have saved lives last night. 

"Complaining is a habit," Erik replied. "Is there a problem with the automatic trigger or did they just have all the necessary passes?"

Guy turned on the tablet on the table and displayed the picture of a man along with his name and information. Erik recognised him as being the man they had captured and kept in a cell. Daniel Jenkins, 41, no known address. How did they already know who he was?

"They had everything they needed to come in unnoticed. This man was in our database, which means he's authorised legitimate entry. I've gone through last night's log and his name didn't appear to me as one of ours."

"The mole," Erik said with a slow nod. He'd been right this whole time. The fact that Shaw seemed to know about their operations was something that frustrated Erik immensely and for once, he was right, not overly paranoid. This also meant that the attack was Shaw's doing. But to what purpose, he had no idea.

"I know you had your suspicions and they were well-founded. So long as we haven't found who it is, we can't trust anyone."

Erik nodded. "Obviously. I'll investigate, pretend I'm doing a debrief. We need to observe everyone."

"I'll watch the logs and place alarms on the database for any new access or entry. You work the people. Evidently, I need better security in my office and on my computer," Guy said, running a hand over his face. Erik didn't have to imagine the stress he must be under. To have Shaw play them like that was as infuriating as it was humiliating.

"We'll find them, and I can finally get fresh information," Erik replied, the image of what he'd do to Shaw's spy clear in his mind.

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

_ Charles's POV _

Charles woke up in a proper bed, much different from the bedding he remembered sleeping on last - blankets on the floor. Disorientated, he looked around, frowning at the pounding in his head. Then it came back to him; the twins, the kitchen and someone hitting him. He suddenly felt a wave of dread going through him and the machines hooked to him beeped faster.

"You're in the infirmary," Raven said, getting up from the chair near Charles's bed. "Everything is fine."

Charles's relief was only temporary. "What happened?" he asked.

Raven pressed a button next to Charles's bed before she answered. "We're not sure how or why yet, but a group of armed men broke into the base. If it wasn't for you, they might have gone unnoticed for a lot longer."

"What do you mean? I got hit in the head, I didn't do anything," Charles said. His slow brain realised this was why he had the worst headache now. This was even worse than his hangover from the time he'd completed his PhD, which was saying something.

"Erik found you unconscious and triggered the alarm."

"Is he ok?" Charles asked, the machines' beep quickening again. "The children?"

"Charles, breathe. Everyone's just fine."

It took a minute for Charles to calm down again. His head hurt. He soon went back to sleep and missed Erik visiting an hour later. This time, Erik stayed, and they got to catch up when Charles woke up again after a few hours.

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

_ A week later _

"Don't be difficult, Charles," Erik shook his head, moving his tower to take the white pawn in front of it. 

It was Charles's last day in the infirmary after a week of forced rest. It turned out Charles wasn't such a better patient compared to Erik when he thought he was already completely healed. Except he thought the infirmary's resources could be better spent while Erik was usually just annoyed to be restrained to a bed, or to a cast. 

"That's rich, coming from you," Charles replied, studying the chessboard.

Erik had been coming in every day for the past week but had just brought the chess set with him two days ago when Charles could focus enough for the strategic game. The twins had visited as well, feeling much better and free from the terrible flu. With Erik's help, they had made a get well soon card, which had the effect of making Charles tear up.

"I'm not the one who refuses to protect myself." 

"I don't need protection. I appreciate your concern, but this was a one-time incident and I will not carry a gun," Charles insisted, eventually moving his only remaining pawn on the left of the board. 

"You wouldn't be cleared for that anyway," Erik said with a shrug. "This might not be a one-time incident."

"What do you mean?" Charles asked, his blue eyes concerned and searching for a hint on Erik's face.

"Nothing," Erik replied, cursing himself for what he'd implied. He didn't want to tell Charles about the mole; not only because Guy had ordered him to keep it quiet, but also because that would trouble Charles who was still recovering. "I'm just talking about self-defence at first. Knowing how to disarm, how to position yourself, how to throw a good punch. And then you can learn how to shoot."

Charles was still somewhat worried but he had found his way back to a chuckle. "Throwing a punch doesn't look like self-defence to me."

Erik studied the board for a moment. He could defeat Charles in two moves now. The fact that it was only a fair fight when Charles was recovering from a brain injury was a little insulting to Erik's chess abilities, but he was coping. He made his move before replying with his last argument.

"I don't even have to be the one teaching you. I convinced Hank to train; turns out it only took telling him Raven would train him for him to accept," Erik said smugly. "I'm sure she could take you on too."

"The problem isn't you, Erik. Of course, it isn't you," Charles said, a little too vehemently. "If it makes you happy, you can teach me disarming and the likes."

Erik gave him a smile. "Also, checkmate."

Charles narrowed his eyes. "Happy coincidence for you, I suppose," he said. He reached for his glass of water and took a long sip before sighing. "Staying here is clearly affecting my mental capabilities."

"I doubt that," Erik said, looking at the three books Charles had requested to have by his bed for 'light reading'. It suddenly reminded Erik of Hermione in the Harry Potter book that Charles was reading to the twins. He hoped they could continue soon, the bedtime ritual had been something he looked forward to whenever he was at the base. "You'll be out tomorrow."

"Thank god for that," Charles said with a smile. "I think my cat will need a lot of attention after this. I try not to be away too often or too long, for his sake."

Erik frowned. Was it his leaky memory again or had Charles never mentioned having a cat before? It suited him though, Erik could see Charles having a lot of love to give to a pet. His friendship with Charles, he kept noticing, was wildly unbalanced. Charles knew his life in tiny details, including things Erik had kept to himself until then, while Erik didn't know Charles had pets. "You have a cat?" he asked. 

"Of course," Charles replied, his expression puzzled. "I've mentioned Romeo before, haven't I?"

"Romeo's your  _ cat, _ " Erik repeated to himself, and to his stupid, stupid brain. He couldn't remember now how he had come to believe Romeo was Charles's partner, but he was now sure he must've been inebriated. It was the only reasonable explanation. 

"What did you think?"

Now Charles looked intrigued and Erik would shoot himself in the mouth before he told Charles what he'd thought and completely humiliated himself. So he shrugged and stared at the books on the nightstand. 

"When are you allowed back to work?" he asked.

"I didn't think you'd miss that," Charles said with a little self-satisfied smile. "Next week depending on how I feel."

Erik rolled his eyes. "I'm only asking because you can't miss the Christmas Party."

"Why did nobody tell me there was a Christmas Party?" Charles asked in feigned outrage.

"It's not the same party as last time. Everyone has to behave around the entire Defence ministry." 

Charles's eyes widened. "The government? Well, thanks for the heads up."

"It's the whole of us, not just this department. It's some sort of report to the government in the form of a formal event. Don't worry, they won't ask you too many questions, they're usually too interested in 007," Erik continued with the biggest roll of his eyes.

"He's going to be here?" Charles asked. "I've read a lot about him."

"He's some kind of PR representative, really. Some people followed him for a while and made a series of movies based on it. Let's just say things are not entirely accurate."

Erik found himself being annoyed at Charles's interest in Bond but tried to hide it. At the end of the game, he had to go to meet the team. They were still investigating the break-in, and although they had made some advances, they didn't find anything that had been stolen, replaced and tampered with in any way, and that was the strangest thing about it. 

Only when he checked files in the room no one usually had access to did he realise his own was missing. 


	9. Chapter 9

If there was one party Erik simply had to attend, it was the Christmas party. Since the first year, he'd officially become an agent, attendance had been mandatory. Everyone was there, the whole of MI6, not just Guy's department. He usually didn't mind it that much, except for the people, the conversation, and the outfit. So he did mind, actually. The people were other departments he didn't care for and politicians who hardly cared for them. The conversation was dull, at best, jump-off-a-cliff level of boring at worst. And the outfit... well, in short, he looked like a bloody penguin in a most classic black suit with a white shirt and black tie. He had only the one suit, which he wore to Christmas Parties and funerals. 

At least, last year Alex made it somewhat fun, accidentally (so he claims) setting the room on fire. Before they left for the venue, Guy gathered them all in his office for a warning, and to no one's surprise, he was unamused. 

"Everyone, attention please," he said. "Most of you will know this but it bears repeating: This is not your traditional Christmas party, it is a way for the government to meet the people behind the agency and see where their funding goes. I do not, I repeat, _do not_ want a repeat of last year. Alex, if the room gets on fire, I will expose your name to that Italian mafia you worked with two months ago."

"Harsh," Alex complained. "It wasn't even my fault!"

"The Prime Minister doesn't care," Guy replied. 

As they were breaking up and going to their different modes of transportation -discretion was as always key, but even more so when the whole of MI6 and most high-ranking officials in the UK would be reunited in the same room. Someone ill-intentioned could do irreparable damages to the country in a single blow. 

Erik came face to face with Charles as he left the room and his breath caught in his throat in the most cliche way imaginable. Charles looked out of this world. His hair was artistically style, combed back and a little to the side, and he wore a three-piece deep blue suit that complimented his figure in all the right ways. If he was a cartoon character, Erik would be drooling, but he was way too stubborn in this reality to react in any way. 

"Hi Erik," Charles said with a genuine and therefore disarming smile. He looked around himself. "Did I miss something?"

"Just a warning from the boss," Erik managed to reply, his mouth feeling dryer than ever. 

Erik spoke very little on the way to the external venue, another MI6 property, one of the overground ones. Upon entering the room, he saw Raven that was right in front of him. She looked divine in a floor-length, backless black dress. She had let her blond hair down, which rarely happened on regular days. 

"Raven," Charles called enthusiastically. "You look stunning,"

He was rewarded with Raven's smile and hug. "Thanks. That suit looks good on you."

They entered the room as one unit and quickly separated. Erik scanned the room and saw a sea of penguins just like himself. When he saw Charles doing the same, he said, "he's going to be fashionably late."

"I wasn't-" Charles cut himself off and shrugged. 

The room in itself was only remarkable by its size. Standard white walls and faded hardwood floors were the only things this room came with. It was livened up by white fairy lights on the walls, two giant buffet tables and a massive decorated Christmas tree, just to remind everyone this was the holiday season. 

"I wasn't expecting such a crowd."

"A lot of people work in the shadows," Erik said as a man walked towards them. He recognised him as his boss's boss’s boss, head of MI6 Jack Perry.

"009, a pleasure to see you as always," Perry said, extending his hand which Erik shook. 

"Glad for the occasion to meet again, sir," Erik replied politely. If there was one man in the organisation he couldn't piss off, that was him. And the Prime Minister, actually.

"Jack Perry. Lovely to meet you, Dr Xavier," Perry shook Charles's hand who looked slightly bemused. Erik wanted to laugh at that - did Charles think the head of intelligence wouldn't have done his research?

"I am glad to meet you as well," Charles said with a dazzling smile that Erik was starting to recognise as his crowd-pleasing smile. It was charming, albeit nothing like the way he'd grinned at Erik over dinner with the twins. Erik took some pleasure in the fact that Charles kept some of his smiles from the outside world.

"How are you finding working at the base? I was sorry to hear the Hut was broken in and you were hurt," Perry said, taking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. Erik grabbed two and gave one to Charles. 

"It is certainly different from my own private practice, but extremely interesting."

"I've heard you're doing a lot of good, which is excellent," Perry said. He looked to his side where his attention was being requested elsewhere. "Excuse me."

Erik and Charles watched him leave and Erik tried not to be so tense, but of course, failed.

"How is he using his own name and you all aren't?" Charles asked.

"Only a few names are known to the public: Jack Perry, the head of MI5 Philippa Ward and Bond. This way the general public knows who's what but not the specifics to ensure our safety."

Charles nodded. "That makes sense. Who's over there with Alex?" he asked.

Alex was a few meters away from them, in the middle of a lively conversation with a woman in a military uniform with a dark-haired tight bun. But Erik didn't know the man that was with them. 

"General Khan is the Chief of the Defence Staff. I don't know who the man is. This government has only been there a few months," Erik said, amazed at himself for already remembering those names that stuck around his brain.

Erik and Charles split up for individual mingling and Erik had to make conversation with various important people about the strength of the UK's defence, the threat of election meddling, the results of his past missions and the department's handling. In a conversation with Hank and the Minister of State for the Armed Forces, they discussed the equipment the Quartermaster had developed during the year. The Minister was particularly interested in the latest handgun Hank had upgraded, something she said could be 'instrumental in improving our soldiers' defence'. Erik simply remembered it as the gun that granted him two additional weeks with a cast. 

Waiters came by several times, and Erik had the occasion to try a few different canapes, finding out he kept going back to the duck and onion chutney canapes. There was something about them; they were good but not the best, and yet Erik was obsessed with them. He had about four before he couldn't find any more at the buffet table. Then he went back to mingling.

Speaking about work was tolerable, Erik had always found. Government officials weren't interested in small talk about the weather, although, in his brief exchange with the Prime Minister, the man managed to make a joke about the Holiday season and Erik had to force a laugh. Charles also entertained discussions all night and looked way too comfortable doing so. In his over-the-top expensive outfit, he looked ready to attend his own wedding. Erik occasionally shot a glance towards him, and always found Charles enthralled in the other person's speech, smiling like the sun, or launched into a vivid argument of his own. 

After grabbing a glass of wine, Erik found himself next to the man who'd been talking to Alex at the beginning. The man gave him a courteous smile.

"I don't think we've met," he said, looking at Erik with an insistence that was nowhere near enough to make him uneasy, but that was too much nonetheless.

"009," Erik replied. 

"Nice to meet you. Your reputation precedes you," the man said. "I'm the newly-appointed Director-General Strategy and International, Steven Chapman."

"May I offer you cheese wraps with mango chutney?" a waiter announced next to them just as the man said his name.

The superposition of sounds was like a bomb in Erik's mind. Steven Chapman. Erik had a vision - no, a memory - of himself as a child, that name written on a piece of paper in front of him. His mother was next to him and his father looking out the window. 

Erik excused himself and hurried off to the toilets, Chapman's puzzled look following him. He was alone in the room, thank god. He opened the tab and put water on his face. So he saw memories of himself he never had any remembrance of before. No big deal.

Why did they come at such random moments? Could he be remembering where the list was? If so, why now and not 15 years before when his days revolved around being asked that same question over and over. What would have happened if he had remembered it? His teenage self would have told Shaw. There was no way he could've withheld that information if it could've ended whatever twisted experiment Shaw's team had in mind every day. He was strong now because of it, but he wasn't strong then. 

However overwhelmed he was, this was only a fraction of the effect from seeing Shaw's face after eating Charles's pancakes. There was a part of his brain for which it wasn't a surprise and he wished he knew why.

He stayed for a while by the sinks and people came and went but he didn't care. He then went in search of the one person he could talk to about this. Coming back into the main room, he spotted Charles right away. He had finally found James Bond who looked mildly interested by what Charles was telling him. 

When he walked past them, Erik cringed when he heard Charles's words. 

"Are you real, or are you a delusion? Maybe you can teach me more about interpersonal relationships," Charles said with an already tipsy smile.

Erik hadn't wanted to vomit before, but now he did. So speaking to Charles was out of the question. 

He walked past Chapman, past Guy in deep conversation with the Prime Minister, past Raven who gave him a strange look, and finally past the door which closed behind him. Instead of going back to The Hut, he simply walked. It was close to 11 at night and the street crowd had long changed from office workers to pub-goers. For once, he didn't mind the chatter coming from the pubs, the music, the wobbly people he walked by, even the singing and the yelling. There was something terribly wrong with him. 

He ended up by the river, near the Embankment tube station. It was when he saw the beauty of London at night that he realised he didn't get out of the base often enough. He leaned against the stone ledge and sighed. He used to come here all the time with Magda, after a date night at their favourite restaurant nearby. Why was he thinking about her all of a sudden? Charles would say his whole life had just taken a turn and he was going back to comfort and a time where he was feeling good.

Charles... Erik may have omitted to tell him Bond was straight as an arrow. Why was Charles interested in that dull guy anyway? Erik wasn't jealous. He wasn't. He had no say who Charles was going for, which seemed to be a large selection of humans, but with the mole in the base, there weren't a lot of people he could trust.

Erik got so lost in his thoughts he ended up thinking about model trains, an indecipherable amount of time later. He tried to trace back to the origin of that thought, to no avail. He had no idea how long he'd stayed there, but the street had become much, much quieter, meaning the pubs had probably closed.

He heard the clicking sound of heels and absentmindedly turned his head to see a woman walking with a fast pace to the tube station. The fast pace was soon explained by a creepy shadow following her. Erik sighed and took two steps to the side to be in the creeper's way and stop him. The man was very clearly drunk, crimson red in the face and smelling disgusting. 

"I don't think this is where you want to go," Erik said. 

"Piss off, mate," the man slurred. 

"Turn around or this-" Erik didn't have time to finish his sentence when the man was swinging for his jaw. He could have laughed at the stupidity of it. The man was already barely stable enough to stand. Erik only had to dodge the punch and the force the man had put behind his fist threw him onto the floor. He tried to grab onto Erik's shirt to catch himself, only resulting in the material tearing at the seams and giving to the pressure. 

"Get the hell out," Erik said in an exasperated tone. 

The drunk didn't seem to agree and even tried to come at Erik with a knife. Erik had no choice but to beat him up, really. He had been ready to let the man walk away, but well...

This time, his hand was intact, Erik thought as he went back to the base, taking detour after detour, just in case. He expected the base to be quiet and planned to shower and go to bed. After the day he'd had, he wouldn't mind quiet. Instead, he could hear shouts coming from the end of the corridor. He walked towards the noise, and saw light in the kitchen at the same moment he understood the sounds the shouts were forming: _Drink! Drink! Drink!_

Charles had the biggest pint glass Erik had ever seen in his hands and was emptying it into his mouth under everyone else's encouragement. He gave a shout of his own when he was done and the rest cheered. Then he saw Erik and beamed at him. 

"Erik! Where were you?" Charles asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Erik wondered briefly if Charles was as drunk as the man he'd encountered in the streets. Probably, but Charles had manners. 

"He was having torrid sex in the closet," Sean declared. "His shirt is missing buttons."

"Well done, Sherlock," Erik scorned. Charles was looking at him, his sad face apparent and Erik had to deny the accusation. "I wasn't having torrid sex in a closet. What are you all doing?"

Raven took Hank's glasses and put them on her nose before she looked at Erik. "We're keeping the party going- ow, my eyes." She quickly took the glasses off and tried to put them back on Hank who laughed and made it even harder. She eventually gave up after almost blinding him. 

"We got those extra bottles from the party," Alex said proudly, and Erik saw champagne bottles on the floor. 

"You stole them?" he asked in surprise. This was ballsy.

Alex shrugged. "At least if it was vodka, I could've breathed fire."

Alex's sentence was immediately met with a resounding no.

Erik ended up staying a while, mainly for the champagne, and for the delight of watching Charles try to arm wrestle everyone. He lost to each and every one of the people present but still went on to the next one with his confidence intact. Charles pouted when at last, Erik beat him but there was also something else in his expression. It didn't take too long after that for pretty much everyone to be lying on the floor, asleep.

Erik woke Charles up after a while and got him to his feet.

"Hey, gorgeous," Charles whispered. 

Erik didn't want to think about his heart making a little jump at that. "You should sleep in a real bed."

"Yours will do fine," Charles said with a smirk.

"Am I your back-up plan?"

"What?"

Erik rolled his eyes. "I guess Bond was unavailable."

"He's straight, Erik."

The attempted seriousness with which Charles had said it made Erik chuckle. Charles took Erik's laugh as disbelief and stopped to look at him.

"He _told_ me," Charles continued.

Erik laughed again. He looked into Charles's impossibly blue eyes and shook his head.

Then suddenly he was kissing Charles, his hands wrapped on both sides of his face. Charles's lips tasted of champagne and chocolate. It was intoxicating. And Charles was drunk and maybe he was a little as well, and he was an idiot and it was a mistake but he didn't care. Charles made noises that shouldn't exist and spurred Erik on.

When Charles reached out to touch his stomach exposed by the ripped fabric, Erik's brain jump-started and he realised what a terrible idea this really was. Charles was absolutely wasted and not in any condition to make these kinds of decisions. He wouldn't even find the way back to his house if Erik let him loose.

Taking Charles to his bed, Erik had to call upon his steely will to simply lie down next to him and get himself to sleep. It was possibly one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Thankfully, it only took a minute for Charles's champagne-soaked brain to doze off.

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

_Charles's POV_

Charles woke up with a pounding headache from hell. He stayed a moment in bed, trying to recover his thoughts. The Christmas Party. Right. The door opened and Charles's eyes snapped open too, suddenly realising something wasn't right. This wasn't his room and Erik was standing by the doorway, his hair wet with a towel around his waist. Charles swallowed with an audible gulp. He was aware this was completely cliche, but he couldn't help staring. Sure, he'd seen Erik shirtless once before, but not _like this_.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty," Erik said. He was trying hard to keep his expression neutral, just like the first few sessions they'd had together and Charles wondered why the relapse.

Charles had to blink a few times to reboot his brain and process what the nearly-naked man had said. As he moved to sit up completely, he realised he was nearly-naked as well and felt a rush of something that dangerously resembled panic. 

"Erik... hello. What happened?" Charles asked.

"You don't remember?"

Charles shook his head and winced. Bad idea when he was this hungover, he should've known. Erik's face turned smug, with a hint of playful and something else... sadness, or relief? Charles's brain couldn't make it out. "Did something happen?"

"Oh Charles... it was hot," Erik said. For some reason, Charles had always found Erik's comebacks amusing, and the way his lips turned up in a little self-satisfied smile only added to Charles liking them. But this time, it was worrying, especially since he didn't remember.

Charles sighed. "Are you going to give me an answer?"

"Would you have wanted for something to happen?" Erik asked and Charles looked away from him. He was infuriating, and looking at him was confusing his feelings.

"It's not funny, Erik," Charles eventually gathered enough strength and motivation to get out of bed and put his clothes back on that were on a nearby chair. At least, they weren't thrown across the room, that was a good point.

"And how does that make you feel?" Erik smirked full force, smug to the extreme and Charles would've chuckled at the obvious situation reversal if Erik wasn't withholding information at a time his head hurt so much.

Charles didn't reply and stopped before the door, "I'll see you later."

What he needed now was to go home, take aspirin and spend the rest of the day in his bed in the dark, waiting until he didn't feel so sick anymore. Maybe Romeo would have missed him enough to join the cuddle fest. Most of all, he needed to get the sight of Erik, dripping wet, his body all hard muscles and inviting skin off his mind. He did not want to think about what they might have done during the night, or what he would have done had he stayed longer. He would've started by untying the bothersome towel and pressed his hands to Erik's skin, then he'd have kissed- Charles shook his head violently before he felt too heated to be able to walk, and the images disappeared. This was all Erik's fault, really.

Charles rounded the corner and walked to the stairs at the other end. He saw someone else coming towards him and realised it was Raven. She was wearing the same beautiful gown she'd worn at the party but her hair was up in a messy bun this time. She looked in about the same state as Charles. When Raven saw him, she had a deer-caught-in-headlights moment before she really looked at him, and her face went back to what it was before. Tired, but with a sort of happiness to it.

"Hi," Charles said.

"Hi," Raven said. "What are you doing?"

"Going home."

"Me too."

"Good."

Charles nodded. Raven nodded. They kept walking. Charles didn't comment on the fact that Raven's room was in the base so where had she been. Raven didn't comment on the fact that Charles had spent the night there.


	10. Chapter 10

_ Charles’s POV _

It was close to Christmas time, and Charles had much to think about in terms of the ethical implications of his actions the night of the Christmas party. Whether he had slept with Erik was irrelevant, because the intention to do it had been there for some time, and he had come to question whether he could still do his job correctly. He took some time off from the base before he took time off from his own practice.

He still visited the base to spend time with the twins and luckily, or strategically, didn't run into Erik. The day after Christmas, he learnt that Erik had volunteered for a mission that would likely run into the new year. He had a lot of time to wonder if it had anything to do with him. He brought Christmas presents for the twins, and they read the end of Harry Potter with homemade hot chocolate.

On New Year's Eve, Charles partied in central London with Raven and Jean who thought he didn't seem to be his usual self. They danced and tried every cocktail on the menu, with the fun culminating at midnight with the fireworks. There was always something emotional about a new year. In reality, it was just another day, but it felt like a new beginning, a clean slate. 

Then Charles made a decision. He came to the conclusion that as long as nothing happened between Erik and him, there was no reason for him to leave. The job was interesting, the people were great, he got to talk to Raven a hundred times more than before, and he could see the twins every day. Pursuing this was wrong, he didn't want Erik to think this was all he'd ever had in mind, or that he'd never really held his health as a priority. 

The day before Charles was due back to work, Erik came back. Charles had told the twins he'd be there at 9, but it had snowed so much that the whole city had come to a stop. So he was late,  _ and _ he met Erik in a hallway.

"Happy new year," Charles said, smiling at Erik, "how are you?"

"Happy new year," Erik said with a smile back. Charles had missed him more than he'd thought, after all. "Alright. Only a cracked rib."

"Only?" Charles repeated with a huff. 

"You're not going to lecture me for something that's not even broken," Erik barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I won't say anything," Charles replied, holding his hands up. "It snowed a lot last night, I was thinking the twins would love to play outside for once."

Erik instantly frowned. "It's not safe."

"They've been scooped up inside for a long time," Charles argued. "It would do them a world of good."

"I know that. What if something happens to them?"

"They're not going to stay hidden in here forever," Charles said, which he knew wasn't a subject to discuss now. "Besides, you'll be there."

Erik sighed before giving in. "I'm sure they would like that."

Liking it turned out to be an understatement. The twins were ecstatic. Charles had bought them winter outerwear during the holidays for this exact purpose. He'd hoped for some snow and sledging possibilities and the weather had delivered in a way he wouldn't have dreamed of. When getting the winter clothes, he'd also grabbed two sledges, which he knew exactly where they could use.

Charles had never seen Wanda and Pietro this excited, and it warmed his heart. Life hadn't treated them kindly and while Erik and himself tried to make it better for them, he knew they were still taking it hard. Erik insisted they use one of the upgraded cars usually reserved for missions. It was still possible Shaw wanted to finish the job. They went by Charles's house to get the sledges and then drove to the park. The entire city was covered with a thick white coat and even Charles who had lived there for years was amazed. There was always something magical about snow.

As they got out of the car and walked in the snow, Charles was glad they all had snow boots, otherwise, they would have snow soaking their trousers and down their socks, leading to really unfortunate frozen toes. But as it were, they had more than enough protective layers. Sweaters, thick coats with hoods, scarves and snow boots resulted in Wanda's and Pietro's faces being barely visible but definitely joyful. Charles was not different, except that he'd traded the hood for a woolly hat and was wearing Raven's Christmas present, a beautiful blue and white striped scarf. As for Erik, he had refused any colours in what Charles thought was a crime against winter joy. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Charles said, to which they all agreed.

They were walking when the twins started gathering snow into a big ball and rolled it around. Erik kept looking around them all over the park as if he was on a recon mission. The other people in the park were all parents, children and a few dogs, all of them thrilled by the white miracle.

"Are you making a snowman?" Erik asked them. Pietro nodded, and they barely noticed it with the hood around his head. They left the kids to play, although they stayed close just in case. 

"I'd feel more comfortable if you could defend yourself," Erik said as he gave another glance around. "When are we starting? We could do it tomorrow."

"We'll see each other tomorrow anyway. I'm back to work and you can tell me about your mission."

Erik shrugged. "It was nothing special."

"You cracked a rib."

"You should see the other guy."

Charles shook his head but smiled lightly. He wanted to ask what happened, but this was obviously not a secure location to talk about such sensitive matters, and he could be accused of treason and stuck in a sombre cell for the rest of his short life if he did.

"We finished Harry Potter while you were away," he settled for saying instead.

"I feel betrayed, Charles," Erik replied. "How does it end?"

"Sorry, it's the only story Wanda wanted," Charles said, with a fond look at the little girl in the red coat. "Harry thinks Snape is going to steal the Philosopher's stone so he goes through the hatch under the three-headed dog with Ron and Hermione. There's a bunch of tests they have to go through and there's a game of chess with giant, live pieces. Then Harry gets to the final room and he sees someone. Can you guess who it is?"

"If you're asking me, it means it's not Snape," Erik said as he thought. "I'll say... the idiot with the cat. He's creepy."

"Filch? No, try again."

Charles smiled. He enjoyed seeing Erik think. The way his exceptional greyish-green eyes lost a bit of focus, the slight frown and the nearly imperceptible way his lips tightened. He saw it a lot at the beginning of their sessions when Erik was carefully preparing his answers to match what he thought Charles wanted to hear.

Charles was lost in his thoughts and when he realised it, Erik was staring at him with a curious expression. He had obviously said something Charles had missed. "I'm sorry, can you repeat?" Charles asked.

"I said Quirrell. What were you thinking about?" 

Charles shook his head. "It's not important. Quirrell is the right answer. He actually had Voldemort living on the other side of his head."

Erik huffed. "How is that supposed to work?"

"He needed it to survive."

Upon glancing at the twins' work, Charles decided it was time to help out. He picked up the smaller snowball and put it on top of the bigger one as Wanda and Pietro went around looking for stones for the eyes and mouth. A path had been cleared for parking and they came back with their gloved hands full of small and less small stones. 

"That's well done. Do you want to make a nice smile?" he asked Pietro who put the lighter pebbles on the snowman's head to make a smile that almost went up to the eyes Wanda had placed using larger dark stones. They selected a piece of a branch for the nose, as they had no carrot. 

Charles fished his phone out of his pocket and got the twins to stand before their snowman so he could take a picture. He had got used to having no phone inside the base now, but he was glad to be able to use it when he was outside. Judging by the look of Erik's face, he didn't think this was a good idea. To Charles's surprise, he didn't say anything. 

"We can hang that picture in your room," Charles told Wanda and Pietro.

When the snowman was complete, nothing could distract the twins from their desire to sledge anymore. The four of them climbed up the hill where other children and adults were already having fun and once up, they set the sledges down and Pietro settled in one of them to try.

At the last minute, Charles thought he ought to go with him, just in case something went wrong, and he hopped on the sledge behind Pietro. It was tight now, but thankfully Pietro didn't seem to mind.

"You do know you'll go faster because you're with him," Erik remarked.

Charles gasped in pretend offence. "What are you saying about my weight, exactly?"

Erik rolled his eyes. "Your weight is perfect and I'm sure Pietro will appreciate the extra speed. We'll be here."

"Maybe we should-" Charles started to second-guess his decision when he felt a strong push on his back and they were off. "Erik!" he shouted, half-surprised, half-amused.

Hearing Pietro's laugh as they hurtled down the hill made him forget about everything else. It didn't last nearly long enough and soon they had reached the flat length of the park and the sledge came to a natural stop. Charles and Pietro waited a second before getting out of the sledge, catching their breath and grinning at each other.

"Did you like it?" Charles asked the obvious question and Pietro sent him a look as if to say 'duh!'. Erik was rubbing off on these poor children.

They climbed back up the hill, Charles dragging the sledge behind him and when they reached the top, Wanda was already in place in the other sledge. Erik went with her and Charles watched them with a soft smile. He had never loved winter more than at this instant.

Charles went a second time with Pietro, and Erik took his place behind Wanda again. Charles watched them as, this time, the sledge got caught in a bump mid-descent and was derailed. Erik wrapped both arms around Wanda as they fell and tumbled into the snow. Charles's heart clenched in concern for the second it took for Wanda's laugh to reach his ears. Erik released her and turned toward Charles. "We're ok," he said, chuckling along to the little girl's giggles. 

Erik's laugh was something special. Erik had two sides that Charles didn't know how to merge in his mind: the one that punched a man to death to the point of breaking many bones of his hand - a violent, obsessive side, and the one that rescued two orphans and took care of them, protecting them like he hadn't been protected - the kind and caring side. Charles did as much want to tame one as he was attracted by the other. Or maybe he liked the duality but wished to see it in a better-mixed way. He could only see the first one at the beginning, stubborn, unapologetically violent, with little care for consequences but it didn't show that much now. He relished seeing him like that, laughing and having some fun.

Erik and Wanda got back on their ride until the bottom of the hill and joined Charles and Pietro at the top again. 

"What happened?" Charles asked.

"We hit a bump. We're fine, some snow slid down her neck though," Erik said. "This was my last one for today." Only now did Charles notice Erik was loosely holding his ribs. It must not have been pleasant having Wanda's weight on him when they fell.

Charles didn't comment and they decided Wanda and Pietro could go alone now. Before the twins left, Charles asked a nearby mum to take a picture of the four of them, with Erik and Charles sitting between the twins. Erik had protested at first, because first of all, handing one's phone to a stranger was dangerous, and second of all, this was physical evidence and he disliked it. In the end, Charles won; they need a good physical memory of this moment. 

Charles went to position himself at the bottom of the hill next and Erik stayed at the top, so they could survey both ends. Wanda didn't fall again, so when the four of them eventually reunited, Charles teased Erik that the fall had been his fault.

In retaliation to this unforgivable offence, Erik gathered a snowball and threw it at Charles's arm. The twins joined in and then they were all on him. When they turned on each other, all hell broke loose. Erik threw snow at Pietro, Pietro at Wanda and Wanda at everyone. 

As they were all already tired from the hill-climbing, the fight soon turned to four bodies lying on their backs in the snow. After a few minutes and when he heard Pietro's teeth clatter, Charles spoke again. "How about we go back and have some nice hot chocolate?"

They got back to the base, warmed up and enjoyed extra whipped cream on the hot chocolate.

It was a day Charles would remember for a long, long time, and as soon as he could, he had the picture of the twins next to the snowman and the picture of the four of them on top of the hill framed and hung on the wall of the twins' bedroom.

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

The next day, Erik went into Charles’s office for the usual post-mission debrief. They discussed what he’d done and as Erik had said, it was successful and in the realm of what he was used to. What was different for Erik this time, was the way he couldn’t help looking at Charles.

It had become much harder after the Christmas Party. He couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss, Charles’s soft lips and hard body pressed against his. He wanted him like he wanted air and it was starting to be a problem. When they were talking, he'd think about how Charles licked his lips sometimes and how he wanted to do the same. He forgot what he was going to say sometimes, or he outright didn’t listen to the questions, and if Charles noticed anything, he wasn’t commenting.

By the end of the session, he got a tighter grip on himself. There was another matter he needed to tell Charles about, and he couldn’t let his blood go anywhere but his brain for this.

“There’s something else,” Erik said, and Charles, who had just signed the bottom of a form and closed the folder, stopped. “No, you won’t need that.”

They had agreed to keep all conversations about the list private, i.e not included in his file. It was safer this way, any paper trail was a liability he couldn’t afford, especially since having his file stolen before. Charles had been a little reluctant at first, because he relied on notes, but had eventually given in.

Charles nodded and set the folder on the table before crossing his hands on his lap. “Any new development?”

“I had a new memory. It happened during the Christmas Party.”

Charles leaned forward in interest. “What did you remember?”

“I was in the kitchen in my parents’ home. There’s a piece of paper on the table in front of me. My mother is sitting next to me, she looks at me like she’s expecting something. My father’s looking out the window, maybe waiting.”

“What do you think it means?” Charles asked.

“Isn’t this your job?” Erik asked. He had no idea what it meant.

Charles picked up his cup of tea and took a sip before speaking again. “What triggered it? You had a similar experience with the pancakes. Maybe there was something in common there.”

“I was talking to Steven Chapman, one of the new ones in the government,” Erik said. He had already forgotten the man’s title. “His name was written on the paper in my memory.”

“Do you think this was the list?”

Erik gave a slight shrug. “Maybe. I don’t see any other explanation,” he frowned, looking at the detailing on Charles’s leather chair as he thought. “That means I do know where it is.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Charles said gently, and sometimes Erik didn’t like how Charles could read his mind. “If the information is in your brain, it doesn’t mean you have access to it. Memories are such fiddly things. Together, we can try to bring them back to the surface.”

“How long is that going to take?” Erik asked.

Charles shook his head with an understanding smile. “It doesn’t work like that. I’m sorry Erik, but this is going to require patience.”

Erik looked at Charles for a moment, trying to think of something clever to reply. He couldn’t find anything. Charles really did know him. He hadn’t wanted someone to know him since he’d fallen in love with Magda, but now there was Charles, with his cardigans and his strange optimism and his stupidly beautiful face. The problem, however, was that Charles was pretending their kiss at the Christmas Party hadn’t happened and there was only one possible reason: he didn’t feel the same way.

For the rest of the day, Erik did his best to push that thought in the corner of his mind, with the rest of the things he didn’t want to think about.

Charles had told the twins they would cook together and make his famous spaghetti bolognese so Erik met Charles again in the kitchen. The kids were already there, washing their hands and giggling at something Charles had just said. When they turned around, Erik saw they were sporting matching aprons with ‘ _ Cool kid _ ’ embroidered on the front. They seemed proud of it and Erik could only smile at them.

“We were going to start without you,” Charles said when he saw Erik. Of course, Charles was still wearing the ridiculous ‘ _ kiss the cook _ ’ apron, except that this time Erik wanted to take him up on the offer.

“Some of us have a job,” was Erik’s reply.

“Speaking of,” Charles said with a dangerously mischievous grin. “I thought you’d need an apron too, to protect your very white clothes.”

Erik snorted at first, then rolled his eyes when Charles showed him the monstrosity. It was a white apron with something written in the centre, unmissable: ‘ _ My job is top secret. I don’t even know what I’m doing myself’ _ .

“I’m not wea-”

“Don’t break the chain, we’re all wearing one,” Charles said, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

As he put on that terrible excuse for an apron, Erik prayed that no one would see him like this. They got to work, and Erik hadn’t realised they would make the dish completely from scratch, which included fresh pasta. The kids had a blast mixing the flour and eggs by hand and they even started a flour fight, which Erik tried to stop, only to end up with a wet handprint on his apron. Now he was thankful to have it. People came and went, never staying long as to avoid interrupting the moment.

Erik helped with the folding of the pasta dough, even though he knew little more than the twins in that area. Charles got out his pasta maker that he’d brought with him and showed them how to roll the dough and cut it. Wanda and Pietro were mesmerised by the process, but Erik found himself watching Charles move, with his face so focused and flour on his nose. Charles eventually noticed he was being stared at and looked up at Erik with a question in his eyes. Erik shook his head and looked down at the pasta.

Making the sauce was somehow an even bigger mess. The twins kept trying to poke red dots on each other’s face. From there, they quickly switched into a full hungry mode and tried to taste everything they were making. Charles drew the line at raw meat when he saw them trying to grab some. He got them to dress the table instead and Erik replaced them as assistant chef. The rest of the recipe went much faster, and soon the four of them were all sitting at a table.

The kitchen was so messy a hurricane could have gone through it. There was flour everywhere, on the counters, on the floor, on the cupboard and last but not least, on themselves. They definitely would have to clean up later for sure, but for now they ate.

“This reminds me when I tried to make a birthday cake as a child,” Charles said with a laugh. “The state of the kitchen. My mother went absolutely insane.”

“Finally, some crispy details,” Erik said as he laughed along with the twins.

“You want details? I slipped on a pool of chocolate on the floor and fell on it. When I got back up, my entire back was dirty, but I kept trying to lick myself.”

The twins giggled even louder, and Pietro even dropped his fork he was shaking so much. Erik tried thinking of a funny story as well, and there was one anecdote that had stuck with him. “I was in the park with my mother,” he started. Charles’s eyes snapped up to him. “And I kept telling her the reason why pigeons nodded their heads while walking is because they heard good music in their heads. I didn’t understand why she was laughing.”

“I could see little Erik being offended by that,” Charles laughed

“I wanted to save snails from the rain so I took them all and put them in my pockets. I had a lot of drool in my pockets after, it was so yucky,” Pietro added.

Charles and Erik were laughing until they realised it was Pietro who had spoken, and it was the first time they had really heard him utter any words. Erik looked at Charles, unsure if he should react or not, and Charles leaned over and gave Pietro a kiss on the temple.

“You know snails like rain, sweetheart,” he said.

“I know, but I was young and stupid,” Pietro replied, being 9 years old.

Charles looked at Erik again and smiled with an unbridled joy that was something Erik hadn’t witnessed before. Pietro didn’t stop talking after that, not that they’d ever want him to; he told every naughty or funny thing his 4 year-old self had done and they didn’t interrupt him.


	11. Chapter 11

Wanda was keen on watching The Parent Trap; Erik, a little less so. But Pietro was raiding the library with Charles and Erik indulged Wanda’s pleas. They privatised the break room, and Erik pushed the pool table so he could pull the couch at a better angle for the TV. Erik’s thought as they started the movie was ‘What could go wrong, anyway?’ As it turned out, this whole thing went wrong. He couldn’t fathom how parents could just split up their twins and each accept not to see one of them for the rest of their lives. It was a silly movie, in the end, one that he was sure Charles would love if he hadn’t seen it already. Wanda sure was a fan, and Erik had a feeling she had tricked him when she pretended she’d never seen it. He could almost hear her reciting the lines.

He made them banana milkshakes for the movie, one of the things he did know how to make, and Wanda thankfully loved it. He wouldn’t have known how to make Charles’s hot chocolate anyway.

When Erik stopped the movie, the TV automatically turned back to the news, a feature which Erik absolutely hated but that he’d found he couldn’t change. The news mentioned people shopping for Valentine’s Day presents and Erik looked away. Lovesick people actually made  _ him  _ sick. His eyes fell on Wanda next to him, who had her face turned to him and her eyes staring as if she was trying to get some answer on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked her. He tried to think back of the last things she’d seen that could have upset her, but couldn’t come up with anything.

Wanda kept looking at him, her expression earnest, and a little afraid. He hadn’t seen such apprehension in her since her beginnings at the base. But what surprised Erik, even more, was when she opened her mouth and talked. “Pietro said you’re going to stay with us. Is that true?” she asked.

“Of course it is,” Erik replied with unusual strength. He hugged her and didn’t let go for a full minute. He had wondered if and when Wanda would speak since Pietro now was such a chatterbox. It was an honour that those words were to him.

“I miss my mommy,” Wanda said quietly, resting her head against Erik’s ribs. He held her tighter against him.

Erik kissed the top of her head and sighed. What was the right thing to say? What if he said the wrong thing and she shut down again? Goddammit, where was Charles when he needed him?

“Me too. But she’s always going to be with you.”

Wanda looked up at him, her green eyes wide and teary. “What happened to your mommy?”

“She was taken from me,” Erik said with a familiar pang in his chest. “Don’t worry, I’m never leaving you.”

Charles had seen it a long time ago, how much of a parent he was becoming, but Erik hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that. Looking at Wanda’s face now, there was no doubt he would do anything for her and Pietro and if  _ that  _ was being a parent, then he was one.

Wanda was quiet for so long that Erik thought she had fallen asleep, and he was afraid to breathe too deeply and disturb her rest. He kept an eye on the tv, for lack of a better thing to do. “Are you and Charles in love?” Wanda asked, or rather mumbled. He almost couldn’t make out the words.

“Who told you that?” Erik asked.

“People. They think I don’t hear anything,” Wanda shrugged and sat up. She stretched her arms with a yawn. “Are you?”

“I don’t know…” Erik said, not having a heart to deny her. Charles was extremely lovable, so on his side, there wasn’t a lot to question. But Erik himself wasn’t a catch by any stretch of the imagination, so he wouldn’t assume anything on Charles’s part. There was this kiss, from the Christmas party that still haunted his dreams, but Charles had never mentioned it again, and that was a clear sign.

Something happened when he glanced at the tv again. It was muted, but the images were telling enough. The trial had started on the man who had murdered his wife by stabbing her 18 times with a knife. He had heard the man was claiming his wife had fallen on the knife, 18 times. A lot of things infuriated Erik, but men who thought they could get away with anything were in the top 10. The murderer’s lawyer appeared then, as mentioned by the TV with ‘Kurt Marko, defence lawyer’ under his face, and Erik couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew the man.

There was a knife in his parents’ kitchen. One with ‘K.Marko’ engraved on the blade, near the handle. Who gifted people with knives, unless they wished them harm? This man was on the list, he was sure of it. He could almost see his name on the piece of paper, next to the knife his parents had inexplicably kept.

Why did he keep seeing names from the list but didn’t remember where it was hidden?

Wanda wanted to go back to Pietro so he made sure she got back to her room safe. He was even more paranoid about the children’s safety inside the base since the break-in. Shaw had obviously infiltrated them, and as long as he didn’t know who was the mole, he’d escort the children wherever they went. For now, he had crossed off a few names of the list of potential suspects, Charles’s first. He was with him the night of the break-in, and he’d even got injured. Raven and Moira were also out, from the information he’d gathered. It was hard for him to think someone he’d worked with for a long time would betray him like that, but he was having to look into any and all of his colleagues.

After Wanda was dropped off in her room, Erik’s feet took him to Charles’s office. If he hadn’t left already, that’s where he’d be. He wasn’t sure why he was going to see him. He had nothing special to say, but it was something automatic, a sort of magnetism. He didn’t knock on the door and walked in, finding Charles sitting on the armrest of his chair, a book in his hands. He had his coat and scarf on and was obviously ready for the outdoors.

“That’s an interesting way of reading,” Erik said.

Charles jumped and almost dropped his book. He stood up and was so bundled up in layers that Erik almost didn’t see him blush. “I was leaving. I wanted to see what this book was about, and, well, it seems I got a little lost.”

“What’s the book about?”

“Neuroscience. I found it in the library. It’s really insightful.”

“How did Pietro like the books you found for him?” Erik asked. He didn’t want this to turn into a conversation about neuroscience. He already spent too much time thinking about his own brain.

“It was brilliant. He’s a bright child,” Charles said with a smile that Erik could only describe as a proud mama bird. “What did Wanda settle on?”

“The Parent Trap,” Erik replied, sighing in an exaggerated way.

Charles chuckled. “That’s a sweet one.” He finally took off the extra layers of outdoor clothing, which he hung on the coat rack.

“I don’t know. She asked me if I was going to stay with her or leave.”

Charles had his back turned to Erik but he snapped back around. “She asked you?”

“She did. With words and all.”

“That’s excellent,” Charles exclaimed and really, who needed the sun when there was Charles beaming at them. “Of course, what she said isn’t, but the fact that she voiced her feelings is good progress. Shall we go see her now?”

“There’s something else I wanted to tell you,” Erik said, taking a few steps forward to rest his hands on the back of the chair on which he usually sat.

“This seems to call for tea, anything for you?” Charles asked, already getting the electric kettle out of the cupboard.

“I’ll take a cup, thank you.” Erik ended up reading the back cover of Charles’s book while he waited, which was predictably dull.

Charles sat down properly on his chair this time, and Erik accepted the cup Charles was handing him. Charles immediately took a sip of his, something which Erik had never understood. The water had been boiling 30 seconds ago, surely that was too hot for human consumption.

“Kurt Marko,” he said, looking into his cup of tea. It was sweet how Charles always remembered how he liked to have it; with about half of the amount of milk Charles put in his.

Charles choked on his tea and coughed until he had enough air to say, “I’m sorry, what?”

“My parents had a knife, gifted by him. He was on the news and I remembered it. There’s something I’m missing.”

Charles had ended up swallowing his tea and putting the cup down. The way he frowned and looked into the distance was uncharacteristic of him, and Erik wondered what made him react that way.

“Do you know him?” Erik asked.

“I don’t think he’s someone worth knowing. What was he on the news for?”

“He’s a big time lawyer to big time criminals. He was defending a man who claimed his wife fell onto a knife 18 times.”

Charles sighed. He gradually regained composure and picked up his cup again. “So you think his name is on the list. Any more clues as to where it is?”

Erik replayed the memories in his head but they were always the same. He was at the kitchen table, his parents watching him, waiting for something. What was he doing? Could he be learning the location? Names? Why would he do that?

“Have you considered the fact that there might not be a list?”

Erik scoffed. A few months ago, he would have ripped to shreds anyone who questioned his life’s purpose, but now he merely asked back, “Why would I know all this?”

“I’m not saying it doesn’t exist, but it does so in a way you hadn’t considered before,” Charles continued. Erik wasn’t a fan of this convoluted way of conveying information. Why wouldn’t he just say what he was thinking? He (im)patiently waited and Charles went on. “Could the list not be a physical item, but rather a memory? It is amazing the things humans can remember if they associate them to objects or concepts.”

Erik suddenly felt very stupid. The way he’d reacted to pancakes, at the Christmas Party and earlier at the TV, those were clues. He had thought they meant something, but couldn’t figure what it was. “I’m the back up. They’re all in my brain.”

For once, Charles wasn’t asking more questions. He was an intelligent man and he knew Erik would try to strangle him if he asked how that made him feel. It wasn’t as earth-shattering a feeling as he’d thought. It was a shock, yes, brought a lot of questions, for sure, but also a sense of peace.

There was something strangely liberating about knowing he had all the tools to defeat the villain of his own story. There was no more mission to go on in order to retrieve a piece of information, no blame game about what happened with the damned list. Erik felt weirdly free.

“Is it a relief or an annoyance?” Charles eventually asked.

“Are you talking about yourself?”

Charles laughed and Erik remembered what Wanda had asked him. Yes, he was.

Charles kept trying to talk about the list then, for a while, but abandoned seeing that Erik’s mind was elsewhere. If anyone had told Erik that he’d only be interested in Charles’s mouth, the curve of his smile, and the sound of his laugh after finding out where the list was, he’d have called them insane and hit them over the head. That’s probably what he ought to do, hit himself over the head.

He got up to walk out, and Charles stood up as well. As he was about to open the door, Erik turned back to look at Charles again, who had stopped two steps away. “Wanda asked if we were in love,” he said.

Charles raised a curious eyebrow. “She doesn’t waste any time.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. Erik recognised the crease in his brow that indicated he was deeply focused. “What did you say?” Charles ended up asking. He looked up into Erik’s eyes, his lips slightly ajar, his gaze searching for something. When had they started standing so close?

When Charles licked his lips, - something Erik had found he did sometimes and that was entirely distracting - Erik grabbed the back of Charles’s neck and crashed their lips together, swallowing Charles’s startled gasp. It felt different than the time they kissed at the Christmas party (first of all, this time he wasn’t drunk) and somehow even more consuming.

This time, Charles was sober and pressing them against the closed door. The burning desire coursing through him became white hot when Charles slipped his hand under his shirt and ran his hand up to his ribs and down, dragging his nails. Erik groaned and suddenly couldn’t stand clothes anymore. He pushed Charles back until they hit the massive desk and only then did they break the kiss so that Erik could all but rip Charles’s jumper and shirt off and bite on the soft skin of his shoulder. He wanted to hear every sound in Charles’s arsenal. He wanted to hear them all, and then for Charles to be too spent to emit any more.

He kept up with that thought, and when they both laid on the desk, panting and glistening with sweat, he thought that one thing was for sure, he wouldn’t look at Charles’s desk the same way again.


	12. Chapter 12

When he woke up and the alarm clock indicated 8:46 A.M., Erik felt like smiling. Not because he’d slept in, - he’d probably spent more time awake than sleeping, actually - but because Charles was next to him, in his bed. It wasn’t pretend this time, they hadn’t fallen into bed blackout drunk.

On round 2, once they’d somewhat got past the urgency of needing each other, after stumbling into Erik’s bed (much more comfortable than Charles’s desk, by the way), Charles had insisted on kissing Erik’s skin, especially that of his left ribs and arms, the places Erik especially hated. He’d let Charles do anything he wanted, too intoxicated with the excitement of having him. His skin had tingled, but not in pain this time. He’d jerked away anyway when Charles had tried to caress the scars on his arms. There was a limit to what he’d let him do, after all. He couldn’t really understand Charles’s interest in the ugliest part of his body, but then he’d always known shrinks were strange people.

With Charles still asleep, Erik took a moment to look at him. His red, parted lips, his eyes now closed but that Erik remembered looking deep into, his floppy, messy hair… Erik had the distinct memory of pulling on it. Just thinking about it made him feel hot, and for a moment he thought of all the ways he could wake Charles up.

He settled on pushing back the covers, and climbed on top of Charles, laying kisses on his neck and rubbing against him. This was a much gentler way of waking than Charles had done to him a few hours before, but only because he was exhausted. 

“Erik,” Charles groaned.

At that, Erik seemed to have regained some energy. There wasn’t any way of saying his name that lit Erik on fire like this one did. Charles had said his name in a lot of ways over the past months, but this breathless word articulated around a moan was his favourite, and he’d work his whole life to recreate it as much as possible.

Erik chuckled, not because anything was particularly funny, merely because he felt good. Charles opened his eyes and his gaze was so intense Erik had to look away. “So last night wasn’t a dream,” Charles said.

“So you _have_ dreamt of me,” Erik gave Charles his best smile, with the definite look of the cat that got the cream. “And wet dreams too. What was I doing?”

Charles huffed. “I’m not telling you.”

“Cute you think you have a choice…”

Erik couldn’t possibly wait any longer, especially when Charles was smiling at him like that, like he was the only thing that made him happy and filled his soul with light. He ran his fingers on the side of Charles’s face and kissed his lips.

The only thing that interrupted the growingly heating make-out sessions was a knock on the door. Erik groaned, of displeasure this time.

Nobody knocked on his door; he’d made it clear over the years that he was not to be disturbed. He tried to ignore it, but the knock came again.

“Get it,” Charles said, and of course he would, “and tell them to go away.”

Erik reluctantly got out of bed, put on a pair of underwear and went to open the door to a surprise. Nobody ever knocked, and certainly not Guy, who would ask him to his office for any matter. This meant it had to be so urgent there was not a minute to spare.

“What's wrong?” Erik asked.

“Good morning to you too…” Guy said slowly, looking at Erik from top to bottom. The hickeys and various scratches that Charles had gifted Erik with came back to his mind, along with the fact that he was shirtless, which he never was. He must be quite the sight. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Would you care if you were?” Erik asked back. “You never come down here.”

“I wanted to talk to you. Can you put some trousers on so I can take you seriously please?”

Erik sighed. “Give me a second.”

He closed the door again and tried to gather his clothes from the pile on the floor. Charles was looking at him from the bed, with the sheet pulled up to his navel. Erik almost blew off his plan, but bailing on his boss wasn’t something he was allowed to do.

“What does he want?” Charles asked.

“I’m not sure. To talk,” Erik said. “Will you be here?” he hated having to leave and burst their bubble, inviting the outside world into their very fragile ecosystem. If it hadn’t been for the interruption, he’d have been there all day.

“I have appointments in Central.”

“I guess I will… see you later,” he said rather awkwardly. He hated those moments of insecurity, and being unsure where to stand. Luckily, it only took a moment to put his clothes back on, and he was out the door.

“Your shirt is on backwards,” was the first thing that Guy told him when he saw him again.

Erik sighed. “Let’s just ignore that.”

They walked to Guy’s office, as Erik had predicted and even into the Dungeon, the room where Guy gave out assignments and where they had talked about the mole for the first time. This couldn’t be good.

“You've spent a lot of time with Dr. Xavier lately. Do you suspect him?” Guy asked, grabbing the tablet on the table.

Erik raised an eyebrow, wondering what this was about. "To be the mole? No."

Guy nodded slowly, but like someone who didn’t believe a word you were saying but was humouring you. "Is there anything else I should be aware of?"

Erik considered lying, and then did more than considering it. He wanted his and Charles’s relationship to have a fighting chance before being tangled in MI6 politics. "No, but if there was, would it be strictly prohibited?"

“Definitely. You look better than you did a few months ago, has he helped then?” Guy asked, finally taking a seat. Seeing it as a sign they were going to be here a while, Erik did the same.

This was his occasion to talk about the list, to talk about himself being that. To his great surprise, he’d forgotten about it until now - mind-blowing sex would do that to a person. Maybe Guy would know what to do about the situation, how to get the list out of him now that they knew exactly where it was. Guy was experienced in intel gathering, and used to design programmes to extract information out of ‘assets’. Although they would publicly deny it, the secret services weren’t past the use of blunt force sometimes.

“Yes, he has,” Erik said instead of what he’d planned, surprising himself. “You can say I told you so, but he’s actually not bad.”

“I’m not going to say I told you so, because, as a matter of fact… you told me so,” Guy said, looking at Erik’s face as he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I found the mole.”

Erik cocked his head to the side. Guy displayed a document from his tablet on the flat screen. It looked like a list of times and names and activity. “What am I looking at exactly?” Erik asked.

“You remember we suspected an inside job when it came to the intruders having authorisation in our system?” Guy started. Erik did remember. During the break-in before Christmas, no automatic alarm had been triggered. That had raised their suspicions that the attackers had access to their system but from what Erik had gathered they were never able to find a trace of who it was, hence his own investigation into the mole. “This is the login history from two days before.”

This was a list of names Erik didn’t know or had only heard of because they were part of the security team. None of them seemed suspicious to Erik. He waited, and Guy split the screen to add the footage of a security camera.

“This is Johnson,” Guy said as the video showed a man at his desk. “You know him because he’s the one who sends out the new personal alarm codes. And here comes Xavier. They talk for a minute, Johnson nods, Xavier leaves,” he narrated even though Erik could see the same thing as him. Charles was in Johnson’s office although there was no way of knowing what they were talking about. Charles left after a minute and Johnson sat down at his desk again and started typing. “30 seconds later, a new profile was created, which was used to break into the base.”

“You’re not implying Charles had anything to do with it,” Erik said with an almost menacing tone.

“I’m not implying,” Guy replied.

“They could have been talking about anything. This proves nothing.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t prove much. But what other leads have you got?”

Erik sighed. He’d been preoccupied with other things lately and hadn’t given the mole a lot of thought, so that was a fair point. But just because he hadn’t looked and found didn’t mean it was all Charles’s doing.

“Isn’t it strange to you that he took an instant liking to you and you’ve spent all this time together?” Guy asked. Erik had foolishly thought it was because Charles liked his company. “Have you told him about the list?”

Erik hesitated to respond, which was response enough.

“Oh you have, haven’t you?”

“It’s not him,” Erik said, standing up. He left the room, knowing this was far from over.

His training told him to investigate and find proof, but he refused to believe it.

* * *

oOoOoOoOo

* * *

_Charles’s POV_

Charles couldn’t help but think about Erik for the rest of the day, and every time he did, his cheeks would gain some colour and he’d feel extraordinarily hot. His secretary even casually asked if he was ok. He was more than ok - he was maybe a little too ok. Yes, he was almost too tired to function, but nothing had ever felt as worth it. Getting back in the base after he’d finished his workday, Charles couldn’t find Erik anywhere. He hoped Guy hadn’t given him a last-minute mission - he’d hate not being able to pick up where they’d left off this morning. No one seemed to know anything, and Raven was away, so Charles put together some dinner for Wanda and Pietro, and once they were ready for bed, he left.

Two days later, and Charles still hadn’t been able to get a hold of Erik. He started wondering whether he was even alright, or whether Charles had said or done something he shouldn’t have.

Two weeks before, Erik had booked them a table at a fancy restaurant to celebrate Charles’s birthday. This was now the day. Charles had no idea how Erik came upon his birth date information but Erik supposedly had ‘his sources’. It would be good to see him if he even remembered the event. The questions he’d already asked himself two weeks ago assaulted his mind again. Was this a date? Were they going to be dating? What were the consequences of that?

Charles got to the restaurant at the same time as Erik did, which alleviated any doubts the spy wouldn’t turn up. Erik was dressed surprisingly classy and with an actual button-down shirt. Charles was wearing a jumper over a shirt and suddenly felt rather under-dressed. “Hi,” he said, with a private smile. Seeing Erik made memories of the last time he’d seen him resurface.

From the way Erik said ‘Hi,’ Charles knew there was something wrong. Charles was already naturally good at reading people, but with Erik who he’d spent months with, observing him and speaking with him, it was especially true.

Erik gave his name for the reservation, or rather a made-up name, and asked that Charles called him Max in public. The fact that Erik’s name was a secret outside the base did ring a bell - it was only one of the 4567 rules in the contract Charles had had to sign.

“How have you been?” Charles asked.

“Good. The children told me you continued Harry Potter without me,” Erik said, taking the menu that the waiter was handing him.

Charles chuckled, studying his options on the menu. Duck sounded especially good. “Now they can be telltales. I’m sorry, you weren’t here, and Wanda can be very persuasive.”

“I’ll give you that,” Erik replied, his features softening a little.

They ordered food that turned out to be delicious, wine from a French vineyard Charles remembered having visited, and even saw a West End star dining a few tables away. Charles had never been to that restaurant before, why was that again? A lover of good food, he’d tried a lot of the London fine cuisine restaurants, but not this one. It was cute of Erik to pick one Charles hadn’t visited before.

Around the end of the main course, seeing as Erik wasn’t supplying the information on his own, and as they’d talked about every neutral subject - even the weather - Charles asked. It was painful to see Erik trying too hard to appear relaxed and casual. He actually looked like he was fighting something, like there was an internal battle in his mind. This was Erik from the beginning; the one who was against him, stubborn, cutting. He’d grown used to a different side of him, a more open one, even with the same amount of stubbornness.

“E… what’s on your mind? If you’re worried about… us, we should talk about it.”

Erik looked up from his Wagyu beef and something like apprehension crossed his face. “I am.”

Charles nodded. “I understand, and frankly, so am I. But if this might be something special, then I want to find out.”

Erik waited a long moment, a moment that was much longer than picking up a piece of meat and chewing on it, before he answered. “Anyway. Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you,” Charles said with a smile, even though he didn’t understand the change of subject and wanted to steer them back to the previous topic. “It’s been ok. Raven called earlier, even though she’s… away. I was looking forward to seeing you.”

“And here I am.”

The molten chocolate cakes in front of them were so decadent it seemed almost too much with raspberries, some sort of cream and lemon. While Charles looked at it, Erik’s gaze was fixed on Charles.

“How well do you know the security person who manages the system?” Erik asked bluntly,

Charles gave him a strange look. What kind of out-of-the-blue question was that? “Do you mean… him,” he sighed. He was clueless about how to be sure they were talking about the same person without giving names. Johnson was the man in charge, so he was going with that. “We’ve chatted a few times. His wife actually had a baby just last month. An adorable baby boy. Why do you ask?”

Erik took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Did you…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Charles spotted a familiar face. He instantly remembered why he’s always avoided this restaurant. It was already too late. The familiar face in question changed his route to come to Charles’s table, a vicious grin on his round, pig-like face.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, effectively cutting Erik off.

“Hello, Cain,” Charles said tightly. Erik looked at Charles, and then at Cain, no doubt trying to figure out what was going on.

“Is this your boyfriend, Charlie?” Cain asked, giving Erik a once-over.

“I’m not sure how this concerns you,”

“Do you still live on Park Street?” Cain asked, with a look Charles knew too well. Cain was a brute, but he’d picked up mind games along the way and especially knew how to wind Charles up.

“Nice seeing you, Cain,” Charles said instead, keeping his voice steady and hoping Cain would take the dismissal. He didn’t. Instead, he gave Erik a longer look, his brow furrowed.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” Erik replied.

“Oh yes I do,” Cain suddenly laughed as if he remembered the most hilarious memory. “I’m Cain Marko. We have a common friend, don’t you remember?”

Erik stuck his spoon in his cake and stood up abruptly, making the table shake. “If you do know me, you know what’s going to happen to you if you stay here,” he stated, with a gaze that sent a shiver down Charles’s spine, and not the good kind. Cain was ultimately a coward, so Charles wasn’t surprised to see him shrug and walk away. Not surprised, but relieved.

The next minute was fuzzy in Charles’s mind. He went to the toilets, and then Erik was gone. Not entirely gone, Charles quickly noticed. Erik was done paying at the counter and already disappearing through the ornate doors. Charles grabbed his coat and ran after him. If he let too much distance between them, Erik would disappear; he was a trained spy after all.

“Wait!” he shouted, seeing Erik cross the road. He’d already picked up someone else’s umbrella and hat. It didn’t help that it was dark and rainy outside.

Charles started running, and almost caught up at the entrance to Hyde Park.

“Wait! for God’s sake, I’m not in your mind,” he shouted.

Erik stopped, and half-turned in Charles’s direction. “I know that. You’d have delivered the list already.”

Charles was about to ask what Erik meant, when it came back to him, and he wanted to whack himself in the head for being so stupid. Erik had mentioned Kurt the last time as being part of the list. Surely seeing his son at the restaurant would have triggered feelings of betrayal. “You think that… because I know this ridiculous excuse for a human being, I’m like him?”

“You had the chance to tell me before,” Erik stubbornly said.

Charles’s wet hair was starting to fall in his face, and he realised that rain was pouring over him and he was soaked. “I did, but considering what they have done to my family, I don’t like much thinking about them.”

“Were you behind the break-in?” Erik asked. Was this what he’d wanted to ask when Cain had interrupted? And more importantly, why would he think that? Erik looked at him intently and moved his umbrella to cover him.

“Of course not. I would never do that to you,” Charles said with all the seriousness he could muster. “Can we take this conversation somewhere a little less wet? I don’t live too far from here.

He really didn’t live far from there. He was lucky enough to be able to afford a home in the centre, where everything happened. And now, it was even more convenient, as he was sure Erik wouldn’t get into a car and drive half an hour to be with him. Erik looked at him as everyone looked at him when they found out where he lived - with a mix of wonder and curiosity.

“You live here and you’ve been spending your time at the base…” Erik stated in disbelief. At least, for a moment, he wasn’t stuck on the loop that Charles had anything to do with his traumatic experiences.

Charles took off his coat and hung it, being only slightly wet under it. Erik was wearing a light jacket, but he didn’t bother taking it off. Charles quickly grabbed a towel to dry his hair and Erik never took his eyes off him. There was something in his gaze that reminded Charles of that night a few days ago. He took a seat on the couch and invited Erik to do the same. He did, but only after not so subtly surveying the room.

“A lot of people tend to associate me with Kurt once they know of our connection, and I was only trying to protect you - or myself,” Charles started. “Do you remember one of the first things you asked me? It was about my father.”

“Hero of the parliament,” Erik naturally said.

“He died that day, and I’ve always thought Kurt was behind it,” Charles said.

“He was behind your father saving thousands of lives?” Erik asked incredulously.

“It sounds silly when you say it like that,” Charles conceded. “My mother married Kurt Marko who already had a son, Cain. They were an absolute nightmare. Cain’s favourite pastime was bullying me. Believe me when I say I am not in any way associated with them. I’ve avoided them like the plague since the day I left for university.”

“He’s on the list. Am I supposed to believe that’s a coincidence?” Erik asked.

“You know a lot more about this than I do, Erik.”

Erik frowned, deeper in concentration than Charles had ever seen him. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was something beautiful about the way he thought, closing out the outside world. When he finally spoke, his voice seemed to come from far away. “That excuse that Marko gave on TV about why the victim had been stabbed 18 times, something about falling on a knife… I’ve heard you use that before.”

It wasn’t technically a question, but Charles felt the weight of Erik’s need for an answer. And while Charles would not ordinarily tell the story, he’d make an exception for Erik, if it could somehow help him.

“That’s a load of crap,” Charles said with a sigh. “I’m assuming you’re referring to this scar,” he touched his shoulder, where Cain had once stabbed him, “This was Cain. Because I refused to help him kidnap a woman.”

“Why do you keep up with their lies?” Erik asked. His clenched fists were starting to turn white.

“At first, I was too scared of Cain to speak up, and then I felt telling the truth would bring on too many questions,” Charles said. “If you asked me about the security and the break-in, I assume it isn’t solved? I assumed you had found answers.”

“I saw a video of you talking to the man I told you about from security, and a minute after you left, he created the credentials used two days later to get into the base.”

“Oh, you…” Charles tried not to feel hurt by that. Yes, he thought Erik trusted him, but it had been so hard for him to even slightly open up that Charles shouldn’t be surprised that Erik would feel suspicious and protect himself against the possibility of being betrayed or hurt again. It was just too bad this was happening after their relationship had gone one step further. “You thought I did this. I did visit his office a couple of times around then. His wife had a baby and it was hard on them, so I went to chat and deliver a book I had. I’m afraid anything he’s done was of his own volition. What has he said about it?”

Erik seemed puzzled by the question. “I don’t know.”

Charles waited a minute to see if Erik would follow up, but when he didn’t, he spoke again. “Do you believe me? You don’t have to say yes, I’m looking for an honest answer, to know where we stand.”

“I wanted to. I want to,” Erik said without missing a beat. “You’re a bloody sunshine and that’s unlike you. You always believe people are inherently good, and that’s so… you. I don’t know what we are, Charles, but you’re important to me.”

Charles smiled. That was more feelings than Erik had ever shown, and he felt his heart twist pleasantly at the words. “You’re important to me too,” he replied, holding his hand out over the couch and when Erik took it, his smile impossibly widened.

“Are you up for a game?” Charles asked eventually. “The prospect of beating me should cheer you up.”

“Only if you bring Whisky.”


	13. Chapter 13

Erik was annoyed. In fact, he'd rarely been more annoyed than he was now, and that was saying something. It was more than the time Guy had sent him on a 3-week mission in the jungle, more than that time Alex had pranked him and he almost caught on fire, and even more than when Charles had all but blackmailed him to come back for sessions.

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t get the names out of his memory. He was useless; even more so than a piece of paper. One could at least read the paper, but his mind remained blank.

The only good thing about the situation was his and Charles’s growing relationship and the definite thrill of hiding it, even though no one was fooled. Charles spending the night at the base, or Erik being away were signs enough, not to mention the times they’d had sex in Charles’s office and had got interrupted. Yes, annoyingly, times with an s. Raven had barely knocked on the door once, and Guy had done the same thing another time, but they’d been prepared and locked the door beforehand, thankfully. But not any amount of mind-blowing sex was helping him remember.

Erik tried so hard that his head hurt too much to stand sometimes and Charles kept telling him to ‘calm your mind, Erik, forcing yourself isn’t the way’, but he could as well have been talking to a wall.

Then one day, on a mission, something clicked. Erik was being shot at, and once again stared death in the face. As he dug for cover and the bullet grazed his leg, a new memory popped up in his mind. It happened again two days later when he was infiltrating an embassy and his cover was blown. That’s when he realised, stress was the deciding factor.

When he told Charles that, Charles was unimpressed and unamused. “Although I understand why this would make sense…”

“Why would it?” Erik cut him off.

“Traumatic stress is what took the memories away, so I’d assume this is a language your brain understands now,” Charles explained. “However,” he continued as Erik opened his mouth to reply. “we can teach the brain another way. There isn’t just pain.”

They kept talking about this in Charles’s office at the base, but now when he came back from missions, Erik had to endure psych eval with the other shrink, as Charles had scruples about banging him and also evaluating him. Even though Erik had promised they wouldn’t do those simultaneously, Charles had remained unyielding. This way at least, Charles couldn’t glare at him for being reckless on the job, as he wasn’t allowed to know the mission details anymore.

Charles was making him look at objects, digging up vague memories in his mind that didn’t seem related and providing supportive words, while Erik was reliving traumatic memories on purpose on the side. He didn’t tell Charles at first, he did it when he was alone.

Forcing his brain to relive the grief, the knife cuts and the abuse gave surprising results. Amongst the bloody noses, horrific nightmares and general insanity, Erik managed to gather a few additional names. Martha Coxwell. Lance Holbrook. This fuelled him on and he continued, becoming only a shell haunted by his own demons and refusing anything that gave him joy. Maxwell Baker.

One day, Charles had enough of it. Erik was sitting on his bed, fighting sleep and he hadn’t listened to a word Charles had been saying.

“Erik,” Charles said. “Erik. This is not working. Destroying yourself isn’t the way.”

“What is the way?” Erik asked with a sigh. Cristina Strand.

“I told you, work with me. There’s another way that doesn’t involve resorting to his methods. You think I don’t see what you’ve been doing?”

“I don’t care if you’ve seen it or not. This is how I get revenge.”

“At the expense of your own life?” Charles sighed. “I love you. I wish that would mean something to you.”

While Erik was too far into his own head to process that, his heart twisted. “I just need the answer,” he repeated stubbornly.

“There are much more powerful things than hate and pain for that,” Charles told him. “I’ll be at my house if you change your mind.”

“Charles,” Erik called to Charles’s retreating back. He tried to get up but felt lightheaded. How long had it been since he’d last slept? He didn’t have time to think as he felt unconscious to the floor.

* * *

oOoOoOoOo

* * *

Waking up to Jean’s angry face should have made Erik snigger, but he didn’t have the energy, nor did he have the heart for it. She took a look at him, checked the beeping monitor and turned to leave without saying a word.

“What day is it?” Erik asked, seeing the clock displaying 10:06 A.M.

“Tuesday,” Jean said.

Erik made to sit up. “I need to see Charles.”

“He’s not here.”

Erik turned his head with a frown; it was Tuesday. Charles was always working there on Tuesday. “But it’s Tuesday,” he mumbled, like a displeased toddler.

“He said he needed some time. What did you do?” Jean asked.

“I was only trying to…” Having had around a full day to sleep had brought a newfound perspective to Erik’s mind, and he thought about his last conversation with Charles, if that had even been a conversation. “I don’t know.”

As soon as he had enough energy, Erik stood up and left the base. The least he could do was going to see Charles and apologise. Ruining his own life was one thing, but taking Charles down with him wasn’t something he was okay with.

On his way to Charles’s house, Erik picked up Charles’s favourite chocolates, remembering how he’d once spoken highly of them. This would be a modest step towards asking for forgiveness for the past month of crap. Erik felt utterly pathetic, like a bashful lover going to their crush’s window to gain their favours. He was no teenager but he’d spent the last month behaving like an idiot instead of appreciating Charles by his side, so he’d do all the little things to stop Charles realising he wasn’t worth his time.

There was no answer when Erik knocked on the door. No answer on the second try either. If Charles was ignoring him, Erik had better walk away and try another time. But he didn’t see Charles doing something so rude as not answering the doorbell. He tried the doorknob just in case, and to his surprise it turned and the door opened. No one in their right mind would leave a front door unlocked in London. Was Charles that certain of people’s good nature?

“Charles?” Erik called as he walked in and was met with a fluffy ginger cat. “Is he here, Romeo?” he asked the cat. Romeo rubbed against his legs and he bent down to pet him. Erik had only just started to care for Romeo but the cat had immediately adopted him. Erik was distracted from his purpose for a minute as Romeo purred like an engine and rubbed against his hand.

Eventually tearing himself away from the cat, Erik kept calling Charles but receiving no answer. He looked into the kitchen and glanced into the living room and was about to leave when he spotted it. One of those long, professional knives was sitting on the coffee table. It had a red handle and an inscription on the blade. Erik didn’t have to read it to know what it said. It was the same knife as in his memories and nightmares.

The sight turned Erik’s blood to ice. Charles was gone, and there was no doubt who had him.

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

The instant he got back to the base, Erik raced to Guy’s office to tell him of Charles’s abduction. In the minutes that followed, the entire base was in lockdown. It gave Erik a strange sense of deja-vu. The last time it had happened was during the break-in in December and Charles had been injured. Now he was somewhere Erik couldn’t wrap his head around.

“Don’t lock up the base, I need to go find him,” Erik protested when he realised the lockdown process would prevent him from leaving.

“Xavier knows where we’re located. I’m not taking any chances,” Guy replied and paused to give orders through the speaker system. “Are you sure it’s Shaw that has him?” he continued.

Erik took the knife with the carved red handle out of his pocket with a hand that he tried hard to stop from shaking. Far from being shivers of fear, they were tremors of fury. He could barely contain himself.

“Why would he have any interest?” Guy asked.

“Charles and I, we’re… something,” Erik said, turning to leave the office. He had done what he was supposed to here, he was leaving now, with or without his boss’s approval. He’d have to find another way out.

As he made his frantic way to the armoury, Erik walked past the door to Charles’s office. He read the plaque on the door again, for the hundredth time. ‘Psychological Evaluation. Charles Xavier’. The door was unlocked and he walked in easily, taking in the empty office, usually made warm and inviting by Charles’s glowing presence. He remembered vividly the first time he’d come through this office, how weirdly friendly and slightly annoying he’d found Charles, on top of making cardigans look hot. How Charles had talked with the twins, baked muffins and pancakes, how he grinned at Erik, that soft smile Erik hadn’t seen him give anyone else, how much he cared, how much he loved. Erik wished he’d been in a state to say I love you back, because he did.

Something strange happened as Erik thought about how much love he had for this man, how he longed for them to get away from there with the twins and live as a family; something he’d looked for so long but that was so close, had he let himself feel.

He remembered the list.

Erik laughed, a hollow sound bordering on insane, at his brain’s almost comical timing. Right when he didn’t care about that anymore, only yearning to save the man he loved did he remember the names.

Marianna Richmond  
Callum Adkins  
Russell Duran  
Fred Higgins

They were going so fast through his head, how many were there? How deep did Shaw’s influence reach?

Andrea Rowling  
Lyra Summer  
Guillaume Lewis  
Tobias Stanley

Guillaume Lewis. For only a second Erik thought this might be a mistake, but his mind was certain, and the more it raced to find an explanation, the more it made sense. This was a twenty year old list, but some things never changed. All this time, Erik had thought Guy had saved him from Shaw, but he’d never been out of Shaw’s grasp in the end. Erik really had only traded one abuser for another. Guy wasn’t there the night of the break-in, Erik remembered. And he’d repeatedly asked all those strange questions these last few months. With his name on the list, it was no wonder he was so interested in Erik’s case.

With a raw scream, Erik grabbed the bookshelf closest to him and yanked it off the wall. It fell on the floor with a crash, books tumbling everywhere. It did nothing to appease his rage. 15 years he’d been played again. But more important than the angry storm that was wreaking havoc inside him was a gut-wrenching worry for the twins. What had Guy planned on doing with them? Where were they now?

Hurrying to the twins’ room, Erik ran into Raven. He barely had time to see that she was furious before she punched him in the face. Erik worked his jaw - nothing was broken. The sting of the punch was actually invigorating.

“Are you kidding me?!” she exclaimed. “Where is Charles.”

“I’m going out to get him,” Erik assured her.

“You better be. I’m going with you,” Raven said in a tone that left no room for argument.

Erik argued anyway. “There’s no point in putting you in danger as well.”

“Danger is our 9-5, you dumb wannabe hero.”

Erik had to give her that. “You get us the gear and I’ll grab the twins.”

“That’s really not the day for bring your kids to work,” Raven replied.

“It’s not safe here anymore,” Erik said. “Do you trust me, Raven?”

“Sometimes.”

They split up and Erik went to the twins’ room where Wanda and Pietro were both calmly reading on their beds, Pietro trying to juggle at the same time. They looked up at Erik when he entered and Wanda’s eyes widened. Erik could only assume he looked as wild as a hornet whose nest had just been kicked.

“We need to go for a little bit, can you gather your things?” he asked, trying to bring his voice down as much as possible to get the urgency and life-or-death stakes out of it. It worked only to an extent and Wanda and Pietro complied without a word. Within 5 minutes, they had a bag packed and were out of the room.

“Where are we going?” Pietro asked, holding both Erik’s and Wanda’s hands.

“To stay with a friend. She’s very nice, I promise,” Erik replied, forcing a smile that he wanted reassuring but probably looked more on the side of crazy.

He waited for Raven in the spot where they’d met before, his heart beating just a little faster with every pair of footsteps he heard. He didn’t know what he’d do if he saw Guy now. He didn’t know how he would react, and he certainly wouldn’t want to hurt the children. He heard a group of footsteps coming in his direction and pushed the twins behind him. This was it; he was going to have to fight his former colleagues, his former mentor. Not a lot could have prepared him for this.

It was Raven, in the end, accompanied by Alex and Sean, and Erik heaved a sigh of relief. She tossed him a couple of weapons.

“Thank you,” he said, keeping his preferred semi-automatic gun in hand.

“We’re coming with you,” Alex said firmly as if expecting resistance.

“Whatever you say about going solo or needing no one, we’re a team, and that’s non-negotiable,” Raven said, tucking a knife in her boot.

“You’re right,” Erik conceded. Being alone had served him for a while, but when Charles’s life was at stake, he would take every pair of hands capable of holding a gun, especially if those hands belonged to brave, trust-worthy colleagues he’d spent years out in the world with. Going together seemed less daunting than storming Shaw’s place on his own. “We need to get out of here. We need to lift the lockdown.”

“Impossible. And if this place really has turned, our credentials are gone,” Raven said. “There may be another way.”

“I’ve got dynamite,” Alex offered, to which Sean cheered.

Erik rolled his eyes. “We’re not blowing the place up.”

“Follow me,” was Raven’s answer and the kind of response that Erik hated. It gave no useful information and he ended up having to blindly follow.

It wasn’t long before he caught up to where they were going, though, and he wondered for a second if this hadn’t been a trap all along. Surely going even further underground wasn’t the right way to leave. But they were going to Q’s lab, which was one of the biggest and most secure areas, so this wasn’t the worst plan so far.

When they got inside and fished Hank out of whatever experimentation he was doing, they quickly caught him up to speed. Hank glanced at Raven, and something passed between them that Erik wasn’t sure how to describe.

“There’s a way out through here,” Hank said, gesturing to somewhere behind him. “I discovered it a while ago.”

Erik’s first reaction was to rant about how dangerous it was to have a tunnel leading into the secret government base, but his second reaction was relief at having found a quiet way out, so he went with that one.

“Fluffy,” Wanda suddenly gasped, and all heads turned to her.

“Where is it?” Pietro asked her quietly.

“On my bed,” Wanda said, her voice wavering. Her lip was quivering as she tried to keep from crying, but a strangled sob eventually escaped her throat.

Erik’s heart broke for the little girl. Fluffy the stuffed rabbit was the only thing that Wanda had from her life before and it had brought her a lot of comfort. There was no way they were leaving without it. He knelt down and wrapped Wanda in his arms. “Don’t worry. Don’t worry, I’ll get Fluffy for you. But you have to promise me you’ll follow Raven and do as she says, even if you don’t understand,” he said, looking at Pietro to make sure the little boy knew it applied to him too.

Wanda sniffled and nodded. Erik gave her a kiss on the forehead and hugged Pietro as well. “I know you can do it.”

Erik stood back up and pulled the adults away slightly. “Get ready as much as you can. If I’m not back in 15 minutes, leave without me. Don’t come looking for me, get the kids out to safety.”

“I’ll get transportation,” Sean said.

They all agreed to the terms and Erik left the lab again. It was strange to consider his home for the last 15 years as a hostile place now, but the fact that lights were flashing red and there was an eerie silence made it easier. Getting back to the twins’ room was surprisingly easy, so was finding the washed-out pink rabbit hidden under the covers.

Erik took a handful of seconds to map out the detour he would take back to the lab, a precautionary measure in case anyone was trying to follow him. When he left the room and headed towards the south corridor, there was a voice behind him.

“Are you looking for something?”

Erik turned around to see Guy, and the pent-up anger and betrayal almost devoured him. 

“Just a toy,” Erik replied, in the most controlled voice he was able to produce at the moment.

“Where are they?” Guy asked, gesturing towards the twins’ room with his chin. “I hope they’re ok amid this mess.”

Erik grew colder. He had been right to save the twins first. Who would go after children? Just as he thought that, he realised who he was talking about and snorted. There was nothing these people wouldn’t do.

“You’re done playing with them and you’re done playing with me,” Erik said, his tone sharp.

Erik saw the exact moment Guy stopped pretending. His face went from concerned to conceited. “What happened? Did you finally find it?”

“I have nothing else to say to you,” Erik said before he pulled out his gun. Guy was faster and kicked it out of his hand. Erik attacked with his hands then, if that was the way this was going to go.

Guy blocked the first punch. “I trained you. How do you think this is going to go?”

“This time… I have something to fight for,” Erik grunted as he managed to get past Guy’s defences and punch him in the ribcage.

In the boxing ring, there had always been rules. The goal had been to practice, not incapacitate. Now, the aim, as well as the stakes were so different, and Erik felt it in every one of his attacks. He needed to be done as soon as possible, otherwise he’d miss the others’ departure. Somehow, the fact that he viewed this fight as a mere inconvenience showed on his face, which made Guy even more feral.

It was different from the boxing ring for another reason, too. As he’d said, Erik was fighting for something; to save someone he loved, to take the children he’d adopted in his heart to safety. But he stopped thinking about it after receiving a kick to the thigh that sent him stumbling backwards.

After a vicious punch in the stomach sent him to the floor, Erik got the upper hand. He’d always had more stamina to begin with. He eventually was in a position where he could grab Guy’s head and hit it against the wall. Erik threw the limp body back in the twins’ room and broke the handle. Whether Guy was unconscious or dead, Erik didn’t have a second to spare wondering.

When he got back to Hank’s lab, the group was still there. Sean was sitting on the floor trying to distract the twins with some of his worst impressions, Alex was pacing and Raven was talking to Hank in hushed tones. Although this was none of Erik’s business, it had been good to see those two finally go for each other.

“What happened?” Raven asked when she saw Erik.

That was when he noticed his nose was bleeding. Hank handed him a tissue, which he took and dabbed his face with.

“I ran into slight trouble. He’s dealt with,” Erik said, looking at Sean. “Sean, transportation?”

“I have a car,” Sean confirmed.

Raven looked at Hank and gave him a kiss. Then they were gone.


	14. Chapter 14

Erik drove, mainly because he was the only one who knew where they were going. He was leaving the children with the only other person he still trusted. He had looked her up and she hadn’t moved, she was still in the same sunny Chiswick flat she occupied when they were dating.

Erik went alone with the twins. He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror before going, making sure no more blood was on his face. This wouldn’t make a good impression. On the way to the house, Erik glanced at the mailbox. Magda & Oliver Williams, so she was married now. The seconds between him ringing the bell and the door opening seemed to last an eternity, only filled with the thump of his heartbeat and the shuffling of the twins behind him. He felt bad for putting them through this, shaking their fragile balance but this was better than staying at the base now; he was doing his best for them.

The door opened to reveal a tall woman with long black hair and a light red woollen jumper. The look on her face indicated she’d seen a ghost. She looked at Erik, then at the twins, then at Erik again, as if to make sure her eyes weren’t failing her.

“Hi Magda,” Erik said.

“What- what are you doing here?” Magda asked. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

“It’s complicated,” Erik started.

“Always is,” Magda shook her head with a small, almost sad smile.

“This is Wanda and Pietro,” Erik said, looking at the twins. Wanda was holding her stuffed rabbit tightly to her chest. “I have… in a way… adopted them. I need to get on a dangerous mission, and there’s no safe place for them.”

“Honey, who’s there?”

The voice came from inside the flat, and soon a Chris Hemsworth look-alike appeared behind Magda. Erik was reminded of how truly silly and desperate he was being and how it must look to Magda. Showing up on her doorstep years after their breakup with kids that weren’t his own, asking for a favour. He could have kidnapped them for all she knew.

“This is…Max,” Magda said, looking at Erik. Although she knew his real identity, Erik was grateful for the fact that she still cared about keeping it safe. She turned to her husband. “Do you mind if we babysit today?”

“If you want. I should be back in half an hour,” the husband said and jogged past Erik on his way down. Erik noticed his outfit, and rightfully assumed he was going to work out. That body must not chisel itself out of marble.

“You must truly have no other option,” Magda said with a sigh. “Come in.”

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Erik said, walking into the flat. He couldn’t stay. He needed to get to Charles. But while he was there, the others were getting Shaw’s location from that pig Marko, so there was nothing more Erik could do. “I’m glad you’re married.” Then he saw what was undoubtedly a policeman outfit. “So a job in the police isn’t too dangerous for you anymore?”

“There’s a difference between the police and what you do,” Magda pointed out. “And I suppose people change.”

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Erik was due to go. In the earpiece that Erik, Raven, Sean, Alex and Hank had all put in before leaving came Alex’s voice. “Picking you up in 5 minutes, 9.”

“Copy that,” he replied.

Erik knelt down in front of Wanda and Pietro. “I’m sorry about this. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. I just need to go pick up Charles. In the meantime, you stay here with Magda, she’s very nice,” he wrapped his arms around both of them and felt Pietro hold back sobs. “I promise you I’ll be back very soon. I love you and soon we’ll be together again. When we’re together again, I’ll get Charles to make you pancakes, alright?”

It took a little bit more prompting and coddling, but both twins ended up nodding.

Magda was watching Erik intently, and when he stood back up, she said “you’ve changed, too.”

“Thank you. Be very careful. Don’t let anyone else in.”

Magda gave a short chuckle. “I still have the security you installed. We’ll be fine. We’ll watch something and I’ll give them a lot of candy since I don’t have the mother responsibility.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Thank you.”

* * *

OoOoOoOoOo

* * *

“Do we have an address?” Erik asked as he rejoined the others in the car.

“67B Thornton Hill,” Raven said from the driver’s seat. “Cain’s such a coward.”

Erik nodded but had no time to spare on him. Now that he’d dropped off the kids to safety, his mind could go back to planning for Charles’s return to safety. He kept thinking back to their fight before Charles left. There was a lot he could have done differently, but Charles was right after all, Erik never listened - he was the one who’d say yes when everyone else was telling him no. There was no way of knowing what would have happened if Charles had stayed at the base, but Erik was certain he would have at least protected him with his life. That’s what you do for people you love. He tried to steer clear of thoughts about Charles not being alive and focused instead on how to get him out.

Erik realised he knew the neighbourhood as soon as he stepped out of the car. He hadn’t listened when Raven had told him where they were going, but he should have. He was standing at a safe distance, but in view of an exact replica of the house he grew up in, the one where his parents died and that almost burnt him to death. It was a simple two-storey house made with red brick and a bow window where Erik used to sit to watch the snow fall. 

Erik clenched his fists, memories of his parents’ burning house playing in his head.

“Is this a joke?” he said, glancing at the group beside him.

“Huh?” Sean mumbled, assembling his weapon.

“This is the address,” Raven defended in response to Erik’s tone.

“This was my parents’ home,” Erik said, and everyone paused. Of course, this was not a joke. It was just like Shaw’s twisted mind to rebuild the house where he’d killed Erik’s parents and take Charles there.

Hank’s voice came into Erik’s earpiece. “I’ve finally got the blueprints. It has two underground levels. The top is just a front,” he said and right when he stopped talking, Erik heard some banging noise in the background.

“What’s going on there?” he asked.

“I locked myself in the lab. Let’s say I’ll be fired when all of this is over,” Hank replied.

“At best,” Alex commented and Raven glared at him.

The plan they had was simple and involved a little bit of deception. Erik walked to the house alone. He stayed a second in front of the door, took a deep breath, and kicked it open.

A chill went through Erik’s spine as he realised the interior was just as much of a replica of his childhood home as the exterior. His gaze fell on the table in the corner where he had all his memories of the list, memories of his parents, and his mother telling him ‘this is a way to keep safe the people you love’. He had failed before, but today that list would keep Charles safe.

One thing was different, Erik noticed only a second later. There was a set of stairs going down, hidden under a trapdoor on the floor, from which a bunch of lackeys came up. Erik fought them with relative ease, his pent-up rage making it all the more enjoyable.

“Where am I going?” he asked as he hurtled down the stairs.

“Right at the base of the stairs, then left. There are two levels, I don’t know where he might be,” Hank replied. Erik was thankful for his help navigating this maze and keeping him somewhat sane.

Turning right and then left, Erik heard voices. He knew the plan; find Charles, take him away, avoid Shaw like the plague and let the team do the rest. But there were two things that instantly made that plan impossible to follow: first was the fact that although Erik had said he wouldn’t go anywhere near Shaw, he had the firm intention not to let him leave his house in anything other than a body bag; second, he heard a bloodcurdling scream and lost his head. He was living one of his nightmares but this time, he would come out on top.

He took more stairs down, shooting anyone that stood in his way. He wasn’t trying to be quiet anymore. He barely registered the voices in his ear as he focused on his surroundings. He went through a few empty rooms until he eventually heard the noise again coming from the one at the end of the corridor. The man guarding that door barely had time to register what was happening before he had a bullet in the chest.

Erik kicked the man’s body away to open the door, but what he saw inside made him nauseous and dangerously lightheaded. There was a lot of blood where Charles was. There was a knife stuck to his thigh and his head lolled to the side, void of energy. Erik’s heart tore, and fury made his blood boil. Shaw was there next to Charles, and while his right-hand man literally had blood on his hands, Shaw’s were spotless. That was what he always did, standing to the side orchestrating and keeping his hands clean. He turned his head to look at the door and smiled at Erik as if he was seeing an old friend.

Erik’s shock gave time for someone behind him to hit him over the head. He fell on the floor and was blind for a few seconds. That was enough for him to lose sight of his gun.

“Erik, what a nice surprise,” Shaw said, coming towards Erik with his arms open in a welcoming gesture. “I was wondering if you’d join us. He certainly thought so.”

“Let him go,” Erik groaned, trying to get back up but the one who’d hit him held him down. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Now, you and I know that’s not true.”

Shaw put his hand under Erik’s chin and forced him to look at his face. Erik bit the inside of his cheek, his skull still throbbing.

“It’s been 20 years,” Erik said.

“Exactly. Are you ready to tell me where that piece of paper is? It’s the only thing that can keep me from the White House and frankly, I’m tired of this game,” Shaw said and took a gun someone handed him. He aimed it at Erik and shot. The bullet went through Erik’s arm and he crumpled a little further onto the floor. “I heard you broke your hand killing my man Kane. That wasn’t nearly enough, he was one of my good ones.”

Charles regained consciousness at the shooting noise and when he saw Erik, his eyes widened. “Erik,” he gasped.

“I’m here. I’m sorry. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Erik said, doing his best to keep his voice clear despite the pain in his arm. It was a familiar feeling, and it infuriated him even more.

“If I’d known it was this easy, I would have told Lewis to make you meet people earlier,” Shaw mused, watching Erik’s face for a reaction.

“I already know about that. He was never on my side, let’s have a laugh about that,” Erik scorned.

Shaw’s face scrunched in displeasure as he couldn’t deliver the bad news himself and he came closer to Erik with his gun pointed to Erik’s head. His mistake was underestimating how desperate Erik was to get Charles out of there. Erik waited until Shaw was close enough before he pushed off the man behind him and swiftly kicked Shaw’s wrist. The gun flew in the air, and Erik dove to catch it with his left hand. He was once again left to fend with one hand, but that didn’t stop him from raising the gun to his own temple.

Shaw raised an eyebrow. “You overestimate your power.”

“I don’t,” Erik replied. He did his best not to look at Charles because he knew what he’d find in his gaze and he needed to be strong. “You were right that I knew where it was. It’s in my head. All 89 names, and one location.”

“You’re smarter than this, boy. If that were true, I wouldn’t be standing-”

“Marianna Richmond, Callum Adkins, Russell Duran, Fred Higgins,” Erik interrupted. His hand shook and he gripped the gun tighter. This wasn’t the moment to make a mistake or pull the trigger by mistake.

Shaw’s face lost some of its colour and he glanced at the man beside him. Azazel, Erik realised, now that he could focus. His hands were still red, even though he had wiped them.

“I wrote it down and gave it to someone I trust. If they don’t hear from me, the list and all evidence goes to the Prime Minister,” Erik lied. He actually should have done that. “Let Charles go.”

Shaw seemed to consider that for a moment and ended up letting Azazel cut Charles’s bounds. “I let him go. Not sure he’s in a state to go anywhere.”

Looking at Charles’s face allowed Erik to focus a little bit, and what was background noise in the earpiece he’d completely forgotten about became words and voices again.

“For fuck’s sake, Erik.”

“We’re ready.”

The plan came back to Erik’s mind. Although he had ended up not following it, they could still fulfil the end of their plan.

“Let go of this ridiculous gun and tell me where it is. Then I’ll kill you, isn’t that what you always begged me to do?” Shaw asked, almost innocently. “You’re alone, son. Give up.”

Erik had never been more grateful for his colleagues than at this moment when they showed up and took back the room. Just one of them was a deadly force to be reckoned with, but this group of them was unstoppable.

“He’s not alone, you absolute fucker,” Alex shouted as he wrestled with Azazel and ended up bashing the guy’s head against the floor.

“Even though he’s an idiot who doesn’t follow plans,” Raven even took the time for a reproach.

Erik took the gun away from his own temple and pointed it at Shaw who still looked at him defiantly and without an ounce of regret. But Erik realised that most of his life was in his line of sight now. The man he loathed, the one who had killed his parents, who had caused him immeasurable pain, the one who had destroyed his life; and just behind him, there was the man Erik loved, the one who had cared about and for him, the one who made him happy and showed him affection and optimism, the one who had saved his life.

Charles seemed to be unconscious again.

Erik realised he could either save Charles or kill Shaw, but he didn’t have time to do both.

The choice came surprisingly easily.


	15. Chapter 15

Erik was dozing on the chair beside Charles’s bed when he heard something and woke with a start. Charles’s chest was still rising and falling steadily and Erik let out a sigh. Seeing Moira standing in the doorway, he realised what had woken him - not that he should have dozed off in the first place.

“How is he?” Moira asked, taking a few steps into the room. She had two coffee cups in her hand and Erik gratefully accepted one of them.

“Stable. They’re keeping him asleep for a while longer to let his body rest,” Erik replied. “How did it go?”

“The Prime Minister was very interested in what I brought him. The evidence that we found at the address you gave him was invaluable. A lot of people are not going to see the light of day again.”

“Thank you,” Erik said, unsure how to feel now that his life’s mission for the last 20 years was complete. As soon as the doctors had let him, he had written down all the names in the list, as well as one location where he assumed there was additional evidence. Moira had taken it and made it her own mission to see the Prime Minister and start a manhunt for those 89 nefarious people. She had taken the head of the department, on a temporary basis and thrown Guy in one of their cells while she waited for further information. She had always been a fantastic leader and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she would get the job permanently.

“We already have 10 of them arrested that were in London, including Shaw and Guy.”

Erik nodded. When faced with the choice of what to prioritise back in the basement of his old house’s replica, he had taken Charles away and left others to deal with Shaw. He didn’t want to see him ever again.

Erik and the twins had temporarily moved to Charles’s house the previous day. Erik had wanted to get Wanda and Pietro back as soon as possible, even though the doctors didn’t want him leaving the hospital. He was meant to be taking it easy, but since it wasn’t his first gunshot wound, he gave himself a pass. The twins wanted to see Charles, and although Erik wasn’t sure it would be a good experience for them to see him like that, he eventually agreed.

Wanda set her stuffed rabbit right by Charles’s side on the bed, and the three of them sat down. Erik had brought Harry Potter that they’d kept on reading, and for once he took Charles’s role and narrated the story. When Charles woke up, after the initial confusion, he smiled at them.

“I should have listened to you,” was the first thing Erik said. “…and I love you too.”

“I know,” Charles answered, his smile tired but genuine.

* * *

OoOoOoOo

* * *

Nothing was really different after that.

Moira took the head of the department, permanently this time, which led to visible changes. Erik took a break from work for a few months and helped Charles through physical therapy.

Shaw’s trial was eventful in that a few other people came out of the shadows to incriminate him, and knowing he wasn’t alone helped Erik overcome the difficulty of testifying and exposing his very private life to the thousands of people who followed the high-profile trial. Needless to say, Shaw did not become president.

When he was back to work, Erik went on fewer missions, and let Wanda and Pietro ‘check’ him when he came back to make sure he was okay. He moved out of the base and into Charles’s house with the twins. This required some security upgrades, but they made it work. The twins were safe now and got to be normal children again who complained about school and homework.

The team had a lot of work for a few months, tracking down the names on the list. It got messy on a few occasions, but no matter what happened, he knew he would always get to go back to Charles.

Everything was different, actually. But everything was better.


End file.
